Better Late Than Never
by tenjounotora
Summary: Jeff Tracy dies in a terrible accident before getting International Rescue off the ground, and before letting his boys in on the secret. Will they ever find out about their father's plans? And if they do, are they willing to drop the lives they have built for themselves in order to finish what their father had dreamed.
1. The Day Jeff Tracy Died

Author's Note: While this story is more in line with the original series (as far as age and previous events and such) things such as Tracy Island, the house, the thunderbirds and the technology used is more in line with TAG. I hope you enjoy and I love reading reviews!

Chapter 1: The Day Jeff Tracy Died

Lightening flashed through the sky above as twenty-three year old Scott Tracy sat by the window in the officer's lounge at Edwards Air Force Base in southern California. The lounge was full, since all exercises were canceled for the day, but Scott had been able to claim a small table for himself to get lost in his own thoughts. Storms were rare in this area of the country, but did happen on occasion. Normally Scott would welcome the rare rain and the break it would offer him and his squad, but they had been scheduled to try out a new prototype and Scott had been looking forward to it. He had been in the USAF for only a year, but had already received his first promotion and transfer. He had been excited to join the test pilot program there at Edwards and has been enjoying his stay ever since. He had been wanting to get his father to visit him at the base, so he could show him the types of planes he was flying. He knew his father, an ex-air force pilot himself, would find it quite fascinating. However, his father was a busy man, running Tracy Industries, as well as preparing for his retirement on some island in the southern Pacific. Something Scott wouldn't believe until he saw it.

He couldn't help but think of his family on days like this when he had little else to do. He had only been eight-years-old when his mother died in her accident, and had been forced to grow up fast. His father grieved for a time, and didn't quite seem to know what to do with his five young sons. Grandma Tracy arrived at their home soon after and took over raising the boys so Jeff could take care of himself. However, Scott spent quite a bit of his young years helping his brothers with their homework, making sure they behaved, and encouraging them in the things they loved. Jeff quit his job with NASA and started a business he hoped would help him provide for his young boys, Tracy Industries.

Jeff had mentioned multiple times to Scott that he would like him to eventually take the company over once he retired, but Scott knew he would not force him to quit the air force to do so. Plus, he figured, his father wouldn't actually retire until he could no longer do the work, which wasn't for many years to come. Scott had asked his next brother, Virgil, if he had ever thought about taking over the company himself. Virgil had started working for their father after he had graduated from the Denver School of Advanced Technology, but he was an engineer and was firm that he didn't want anything to do with the business aspect of the company. He didn't think his other brothers would be interested in the idea either. John was preparing for his first trip into space, Gordon was currently studying marine farming methods on the bottom of the ocean for a year, and Alan was just in his first year at Colorado University, spending all his free time racing.

Scott smiled a bit at the thought of his brothers. They were his world, but it was a world that was slipping away from him even now. They all had their own careers and ambitions, and he knew that it would be some time before the Tracy clan would find themselves all in the same place for even a short amount of time.

"Lieutenant Tracy," Scott jumped at his name and turned to face the man calling him.

"Yes, Captain," Scott stood at attention to the higher ranked man before him. "There's an airman at the door, says there's a call for you," The Captain thumbed behind him to a nervous looking young woman standing in the doorway.

"Oh, thank you, sir," Scott saluted and then made his way to the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir," The woman saluted him, "But they called the main line and said it was an emergency."

"An emergency? Did they say who they were?"

"No, sir, they didn't. Just to get you on the phone."

"Thank you, airman," Scott walked past the young woman and to the main desk down the hall where a bank of phones sat, his mind going through all matters of scenarios. His brother's would have called his personal line, though he didn't have his phone on him. If they couldn't get him though there, then they may have called the main line.

"This is Scott Tracy," Scott took the phone, his hand trembling with nerves that had not even showed when the last plane he flew took a sudden unexpected nose dive into the desert. He had leveled it out at the last second, and no harm was done to him or the plane, but it had been a close call.

"Is this Lieutenant Scott Tracy," the voice asked.

"Didn't I just say that was who I was," Scott asked a bit annoyed, "Who am I speaking to?"

"I am Commander Williams with the US Coast Guard out of LA. Is your father, Jeff Tracy?"

"What's happened," Scott's stomach just bottomed out and he tried to swallow but his mouth was dry.

"It appears he took off early this morning out of San Fransisco, in route to an island in the south Pacific. We received a mayday from him a short time later."

"Is he alright," Scott was holding the phone so tightly his knuckles were white and he had raised his voice so much that everyone in the area had stopped to listen.

"I'm sorry son, the plane had crashed by the time we arrived. All aboard were dead."

"No," Scott shook his head and collapsed onto the chair next to the phone, "Are you sure this is the right man?"

"President of Tracy Industries, Jeff Tracy. The other occupant's last name was Kyrano."

"Yes, he's a family friend. I'll… I'll let his daughter know," Scott was shaking.

"Well, here's the thing, son. We need someone to come and ID the bodies before we can release them to you."

"Right, I'll be there tomorrow," Scott replied not really paying attention to what he was saying.

"Very well, we'll be expecting you." The line clicked and there was silence. Scott didn't hang up the phone, but just let it hang as he sat there staring into space.

The lobby was dead silent. They didn't need to know the contents of the conversation the officer had just had to know that something bad had happened. One of the airmen that worked with Scott's squad had run out of the lobby when Scott had started yelling into the phone. He returned after the conversation had ended, but with someone else with him. Lieutenant Paul Rand, was a member of Scott's squad and one of his closest friends.

"Scott," Paul laid a hand on Scott's shoulder and shook the man a little to get his attention, "What's wrong?"

"My Dad, he's gone."

"Jeff Tracy? Gone?" Paul gapped as he kneeled down next to his friend, "What happened?"

"Plane crashed. No survivors."

"Damn," Paul swore. By this point a few more people had arrived including another friend of theirs, "Mark, we have a situation. Jeff Tracy's just died."

"Scott's dad," Mark exclaimed as the whispers started to spread among those around them.

"There is nothing here to watch," Paul announced glaring at everyone that had crowded into the lobby, "Get back to your own business!" Like mice they scurried away, leaving only a handful behind. "We need to get Scott back to his room." Slowly the two friends took each of Scott's arms and started to maneuver him down the hall and to their barracks.

"Wait," Scott pulled himself from his friends and moved to go back to the phones, "I… I need to call my brothers."

"You can do that from your room, it'll be more private," Paul pulled him back down the hall. Between the two they made it back to Scott's room and sat him down on the bed. "Mark, you help him call his brothers. I'll go give the Major a heads up. He'll need to get the paperwork started." Paul left the two in Scott's room. He dusted down his clothes, tucked in a stray edge, and once he was sure he was in proper order, made his way to the Administration building.

He was just entering the building when he ran into their squadron's captain. Captain Barns was an easy going guy, and got along with his men. When he saw Lieutenant Rand's face, he knew something had happened.

"Lieutenant Rand," He called to Paul who had walked by him without a glance. Paul jumped and turned to face the Captain.

"Oh, Captain Barns," He straightened up and saluted.

"What's going on, you look a little distraught."

"Bad news, sir. I didn't know where you were, so I was going to see the Major."

"Well, here I am. What's up?"

"It's Scott, sir. He just got news that his father's passed."

"Colonel Tracy?!"

"Yes, sir. A plane accident."

"A man of that caliber dying in a plane accident," The Captain shook his head, "Where is Tracy now?"

"In his room with Mark. He's calling his brothers."

"I see. Well, then, I'll go with you to see the Major," The Captain put a firm hand on Paul's shoulder and then led the way.

"Major, Captain Barns and Lieutenant Rand are here to see you. They say's there's been a personal emergency with one of their squad members," The Major's secretary announced through the intercom.

"Send them in," Came the Major's curt reply. Paul was a little nervous. The Major was a nice enough guy, but tough on his men. You usually didn't want to have reason to be alone with him and he was glad he had run into the Captain.

"Major," Paul and Captain Barns saluted as they entered the room. The Major did a weak salute back and motioned for the Captain to continue with his business, "Sir, Lieutenant Tracy just received a call. It appears his father has passed away."

"His father? Colonel Jeff Tracy," The Major asked as his head snapped up staring at the two before him as if trying to decide if this was some sort of bad trick.

"Yes, sir. His plane crashed in the Pacific, sir," Paul nodded stiffly, "He's in his room calling his brothers at the moment."

"Brothers?"

"Yes, he has four sir."

"Damn," the Major pushed himself back in his seat and took a deep breath, "I was hoping to get you lot into the air tomorrow once the storm passed. Nothing to do about it though. Lieutenant Tracy is off duty as of now. I'll make sure the paperwork is started. Make sure he stops by before he leaves, I'll need to know how long he needs to be away to get things settled. Though with the size of his father's company it may take awhile."

"Yes, sir," The two responded.

"That also means the rest of your squadron is grounded until he returns. I'll have to get Captain William's team to test that new plane."

"Aw, sir, can't it wait?" Paul frowned forgetting his manners for a moment. The Captain elbowed him, and Paul straightened up.

"Sorry, they're wanting the test results ASAP," The Major shook his head, "Your dismissed." They saluted again and then turned and left, quickly making their way back to the barracks to see how their friend was doing.

When they arrived, Mark was sitting in a chair off to the side in the small single room, Scott was on his bed with the phone in his hand.

"Did you get your brother's called," Paul asked sitting down next to Scott. The Captain leaned in the doorway.

"No," Mark answered, "He's dialed the eldest of his brother's three times, but hangs up when they answer."

"Didn't they call back, surely they knew who was calling," Paul asked.

"I assume so. His phone's rang a couple of times, but Scott won't answer."

"I can't tell them," Scott finally spoke up in a soft whisper, "How can I tell them that our dad is dead? It was bad enough when our mom died."

"You were kids then," Mark pointed out, "Your all grown now."

"Not Alan, he's still a kid."

"He's in collage, Scott. He's grown up too," Paul added as he laid his hand on Scott's shoulder.

"Rand, Nelson, a moment please," The Captain gestured to the hall. The two men exited the room, and the Captain shut the door, leaving Scott to himself.

"What are we going to do, Captain," Mark asked as they huddled next to the wall.

"He's got to tell his family. Even if it is just one of them, maybe they will be able to handle it better," the Captain frowned.

"But he won't even answer his own phone. I'm betting that brother of his is starting to get worried," Paul nodded.

"Oh, you guys don't know the worst of it," Mark pushed away from wall as he remembered what Scott had told him while they had been talking to the Major, "Scott's supposed go to LA and ID the bodies."

"With the way he is right now, there's no way he's going to be able to do that," the Captain sighed. They stood in the hallway silent, trying to think of what to do when they could hear Scott's phone start ringing. The Captain opened the door and the three peered in. "Are you going to answer that Scott?"

"I… I know I should, but…" Scott frowned as he looked at the phone and Virgil's photo flashing on the screen. The Captain reached forward and took the phone out of Scott's hand. "Hey!"

"Are you going to answer?" The Captain snapped, and Scott lowered his head. The Captain then answered the phone, "Hello, this is Captain Barns."

After seeing his father and Kyrano off before dawn that morning, Virgil had decided to take it easy as he completed some errands around San Fransisco. He had to visit a few manufacturing sites where his father was having some things built and inspect the parts to make sure the plans were being followed properly. Virgil had to admit that he was quite confused by some of the things his father had been building as of late. The only thing he would tell him was that it was for his retirement, but what his father would need these huge parts for on an island far out to sea, Virgil didn't know. The parts he had to inspect were only part of some larger machine that his father would not tell him the function off. Yet, he was expected to make sure they were being built right. Virgil had argued with his father a bit that morning, trying to get some more details out of him, but his father was a stubborn man and it was next to impossible to convince him to do something he didn't want to do.

Virgil was just leaving the first of the factories he had to visit that day. It was building a complicated antenna array that he assumed would be for communications on his father's retirement island. Though he was still musing over some of the complexities of the array when his phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Scott's picture flash on the screen. Smiling he accepted the call and raised it to his ear.

"Hey, Scott, what's up?" There was a moment of silence and then a click as the call was ended. Virgil looked down at the phone and frowned. Had he just been butt dialed? He knew Scott didn't carry his phone when he was piloting, and it was too early to be out with his friends in the local town. Shrugging his shoulders he pocketed his phone and got back into his car. He had just pulled out of the parking lot when his phone started ringing again. He adjusted himself so he could pull it out, and saw that it was once again Scott. Frowning, he answered the phone,

"Hey, Scott, having problems with your phone?" But again there was silence and a sudden disconnection. Virgil frowned, this was not like Scott. He threw the phone over into the passenger seat and made to find a place to park. It was the middle of rush hour and the roads were busy, he was just waiting for a stoplight to turn when his phone started to ring for a third time, Scott's picture once again on the screen. He reached over and answered the call,

"Scott?" But for the third time there was silence and then the call was disconnected. Virgil was starting to get worried, and pulled off on the next side street which led him into a shopping mall. He made for the back of the lot where there were still plenty of spots and parked his car. He then, picked up his phone and dialed his brother. The phone rang and rang. "Come on, Scott, pick up." But eventually the call was forwarded to his voice mail. Virgil hung up the phone and sat there thinking. Maybe he should call his father, but no, he didn't want to worry him if it was Scott just butt dialing him. After a few minutes of internal debate he decided to try Scott's phone again, maybe he just didn't hear it the first time. The phone rang and rang, once again going to voice mail.

He sat silently in the car wondering what he should do. He was starting to get a little worried about his big brother. However, at the same time, he didn't want to call his other brothers and get them to worrying when their may not be anything wrong at all. He looked down at his phone and pulled up the local weather for Edwards Air Force base. There was currently a large thunderstorm over the area, and looked to last most of the day. There's no way he'd be flying in that kind of weather. But he also wouldn't have gone into town either. Virgil took a deep breath to calm his mind, there was nothing wrong, but he still wanted to get a hold of his brother, just in case. He called his brother again, and put the phone to his ear. It once again rang quite a few times, but this time the call finally connected.

"Scott!" Virgil yelled a little annoyed.

"Hello, this is Captain Barns."

"Captain Barns," Virgil asked a little shocked. He knew the name, it was Scott's immediate superior, but why was he answering Scott's phone, "What happened?" Virgil's mind started reeling with possibilities. Had they tried to fly in that storm, had Scott crashed?

"Calm down, umm… which brother is this?"

"Virgil."

"Alright, Virgil. Your brother is alright, physically at least."

"What the hell is going on," Virgil almost screamed into the phone.

"Scott, are you going to tell him, or do I have to." Virgil could tell that the Captain had pulled the phone away and had attempted to cover it for privacy, but he just pressed his phone closer to hear any kind of response from Scott. It was silent for a moment before the Captain was back on the phone. "I'm sorry I have to be the one you hear it from, Virgil. Your father's plane crashed, he didn't survive. Virgil? Are you still there?"

"Yeah…. yeah, I'm here. Did I hear you right?"

"I'm afraid so. Your brother, he's not taking the news well."

"I'll… I'll call the others…What about Kyrano?"

"Kyrano? Oh, your brother's shaking his head."

"I see. Thank you for telling me."

"Wait, Virgil, there's something else."

"What?"

"They need someone to ID the bodies in LA before they'll release them. Scott said he would do it, but I'm not too sure with the way he's acting."

"I'll take care of everything," Virgil sighed, "And I'll be by to collect Scott after I've… you know."

"I appreciate it," The Captain sighed, "I'll tell you, I haven't known your brother long, but this is completely out of character for him… it scares me a little."

"Me too," Virgil said his goodbye and hung up. He sat in his car for a long time, the interior had started to heat up a bit and he rolled down a window to get some fresh air. He couldn't believe that his father was really gone, he had just seen him and Kyrano that morning. How could a whole life, no two lives disappear that fast? Virgil shook his head, he couldn't get lost in that deep hole now. Scott was already there, and someone needed to get ahold of their brothers and start taking care of things.

He left immediately for Los Angeles, not even bothering to collect his things and check out of the hotel. He had everything important with him, and they could ship him his suitcase later. He needed to make sure that it really was his father before he worried anyone else. It was a five and a half hour drive, along a straight boring interstate highway. He had been driving for almost three hours when his phone jumped to life. He reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed it swerving slightly into the next lane. He corrected himself and looked down to see Tin-Tin's picture flashing on the phone. Sighing he picked up.

"Tin-Tin, I've heard as well."

"Oh, Virgil, I can't believe it," She cried, he could tell she had been crying for some time now. Probably just now able to make coherent sentences, "They want me to come to LA to ID him. I don't know if I can."

"Do you have their number," Virgil asked as he changed lanes and passed a slow moving car."

"Y…yes," She hiccuped.

"Call them and give me permission to ID him. I'm already on my way down."

"Virgil," She sobbed again, "I could't ask you…"

"You're not. I'm telling you that I will do it. Have you told anyone else?"

"I…I was in class… my teacher knows, and some friends, but not anyone else. Not your brothers."

"Good, keep it that way. Just in case…," Virgil didn't want to say that it may not be them. He felt that if he did he would jinks himself.

"Alright. Please call me as soon as you find out."

"I promise. You'll be the first I'll call." With that he hung up the phone and tossed it back into the passenger seat.

He had arrived at the corner's office early in the afternoon, but he just sat in the parking lot looking out over the ocean that had taken his father and friend that day. He had been trying not to think too much about what had happened, spending his drive singing anything that came onto the radio and arguing with the talk show hosts about whatever they had to say. He was grateful that news of his father's death had not made it to the public yet, but then it wouldn't be confirmed until he had positively identified his body.

The thought of having to go into that building and look at his father's and Kyrano's bodies was shaking him up. He didn't want to do this, but Scott was apparently a basket case. He was the only one that could right now. He had to do it, so he got out, took a keep breath, and walked in.

He left after an hour, he would have never thought it would have taken that long just to look and confirm who lay on those cold metal tables. There was, however, paperwork they had to go through with him and he had to sign several pages to release the bodies and have them shipped to Kansas. Tin-Tin had no idea what she wanted to do, he could barely understand her through her tears as it was. But she didn't know any of her relatives in Malaysia and it was agreed that her father would be buried along side his friend in a dual ceremony. As soon as he was away from the horrible building he made his way towards a hotel. He wasn't up to another long drive, it was a good two hours to Edwards, plus he had to tell his brothers right away and he wasn't going to just sit in his car and do it. He needed to be somewhere comfortable and private.

It had been a warm clear day in Huston, but John had been stuck inside for most of it. He was in the middle of training for his first trip into space, and between trying to wrap up his current research, getting caught up on the research he would be helping with while up there, making sure he remained in top shape, and going through all the testing to prove he was, plus all the other information sessions, he was doing some twelve hour days just to get everything done. This day had been no different. He had arrived on base at six o'clock that morning, had just finished lunch, and was on his way to meet with the shuttle crew for a short four hour informational session.

John didn't mind the hours, he was excited. He had been wanting to go to space since as long as he could remember. Finally, it was happening. In just a few short months he would be up among the stars. He had even convinced his father to come and see the launch. Alan and Virgil would be there too, and he wished Scott and Gordon could as well. Scott had tried, but his request for time off had been denied. Gordon, well, he was stuck at the bottom of the ocean for the next seven months. Still most of the family would be there and that would have to do.

John was just about to step into the room behind one of the other members of the shuttle crew when he heard someone calling his name.

"Mr. Tracy! Mr. John Tracy!"

"Tell the Commander I'll be right there," John smiled at his team mate and then walked down the hall to meet the stranger calling him.

"Mr. Tracy, there is a call for you."

"I'm afraid I can't take a call right now. Can you take a message for me?"

"He said he was your brother, uh, Virgil. Said it was an emergency."

"An emergency," John's brows drew together in worry. Virgil should have called him on his own phone, but John currently had it turned off. What kind of emergency would Virgil be calling him about that made him call the base itself? "Alright, lead the way." He followed the man down the hall to a small office pointing to a phone in the corner that wasn't being used at the moment.

"Just dial 304, and you should be connected."

"Thank you," John nodded and picked up the phone dialing the numbers instructed, "This is John, Virgil?"

"Hey, John," Virgil's voice was indeed on the other end, but there was something odd about it. He seemed a little stressed and tired.

"What's going on, they said it was an emergency."

"I'm sorry, John. I have some bad news."

"Virgil?"

"Dad's… His plane crashed today. Both he and Kyrano are gone." John was silent as he stood before the phone looking at the plain brown desk it sat on, how the grain disappeared underneath the phone, how there was a scratch along the edge, nothing else seemed to exist outside of the phone and Virgil's breaths on the other end. "John?"

"I'm here. I… I just…"

"I know. Me neither. I'm in LA now, I just Identified the bodies, I'm going to pick up Scott here in a bit."

"Scott knows? How come he didn't call?"

"Apparently he's taking it quite badly, I found out from his Captain."

"Damn. How about Alan and Gordon?"

"I haven't called Alan yet. Gordon is going to be an issue, I'm sure they can contact him, I just wish we could talk to him ourselves."

"I know," John paused for a moment, "I've got to get back to a meeting right now. I'll call you as soon as I'm done for the day."

"I hope this doesn't destroy your chances for the trip."

"Me too, brother, me too." John hung up the phone but stood there for a moment his eyes tightly shut just concentrating on breathing. After a moment he made his way back to the meeting room.

"Tracy, you're late!"

"Sorry, Commander, I just received some bad news from home," John announced to the room trying not to show just how horrible he was feeling at the moment but knowing he wasn't completely succeeding.

"What kind of news?"

"My father is dead," John announced.

"Colonel Tracy?" the Commander gapped with the rest of the crew, "This complicates things."

"If at all possible, I still want to be a part of this crew," John announced steeling himself against the turmoil inside him, "My father would be disappointed if I couldn't."

"That unfortunately is not my call," The Commander shook his head, "I'm not sure how much time they'll give you, and I'm sure there will be an additional psychiatric review of your case."

"I'll do what I need," John nodded as the others in the room watched on in shock.

"Very well, have a seat and we'll go on with the meeting. Afterwards, we'll go and see what we can figure out." John nodded and took his seat, his mind wandering as the Commander spoke.

Alan was fully enjoying the nice day he had been given. His studies had been left behind in his dorm room, and he was busy racing around the nearest race track preparing for the grand prix that would happen that summer. He had promised his father that he would not race during the school year and that he would concentrate on his studies. However, he never said he wouldn't practice.

"You're taking that turn a little too tight, Alan," Terry, Alan's pit manager, warned through the radio.

"I can take it, just watch me," Alan laughed as he sped past the pit and on around the track again.

"I'm serious Alan," Terry warned again, shaking his head. He knew Alan was a good driver, an awesome driver, but he was young and reckless and a pain in the ass to reign in. "How's he doing on fuel?"

"He's got enough to last him another half hour, we won't be seeing him at a standstill for a while yet," One of the pit members laughed. They watched him speed around the track again, when Alan's phone started to go off.

"Alan, you're phone's ringing. Looks like one of your brothers. Want me to patch it through?"

"Sure, do that, Terry," Alan smiled taking another tight turn, "This is Alan, who's this?"

"Alan, it's Virgil. Where are you at," Virgil asked his suspicion peeked at the sounds he was hearing over the line, "Are you racing? You promised Dad…."

"I promised him I wouldn't enter any races, I'm just practicing," Alan laughed as he took the next turn, his wheels squealing.

"Alan, I need you to stop, get into the pits."

"Ah, Virgil. You're not going tell on me are you?"

"Alan, this is serious. I need you to stop, something's happened." There was a moment of silence and then a squealing of tires and some noises that Virgil didn't want to know the cause of. "ALAN!"

"I…I'm fine," Alan replied a little weakly coughing, "Took a corner too tight." Terry and the other members of the pit were there in moments, reaching in to unbuckle Alan and pull him out of the car.

"Alan, I told you you were taking that turn too tight," Terry scolded him.

"Look, Virgil. Let me call you back, K?" Alan called as he struggled to get out from inside the car.

"Alan, Dad's dead."

"What?" Alan yelled still half way in the car. People were tugging on him, pulling his arms and he swatted them away, "Virgil, did I hear you correctly?"

"Yes, Alan, you did."

"But, how?" He was laying on the hot pavement, but the heat didn't seem to bother him. The hands had returned and soon they were hauling him to his feet. Tow trucks were quickly on their way as well, and the track was getting noisy.

"His plane crashed, I don't know the details. Look, just get home, okay. We'll meet you at the ranch." The line died in Alan's ear as he was hurried off to the first aid station.

The weather was nonexistent for Gordon. The small undersea base had windows, but it was dark day or night. Right now, it was night, at least for them. Their schedule was arranged so that both shifts would have access to daylight hours on land, but with the experiments they were doing they had to have solid day and nights onboard. During the day, half of their labs were lit with artificial sunlight while the other half received the same amount of sun that normally reached that far down. During the night, it was all dark. Gordon had night shift that month and was now sitting in a dark room with only a small reading lamp and flashlight to use to take his notes and read up on the day shift's reports.

Gordon was almost done with the fifth month of his year long sojourn beneath the ocean, and he was enjoying every minute of it. This was where he belonged surrounded by water all around him. But he couldn't deny that there were some things he missed being above. Food for one, while he enjoyed being in the oceans, what they gave them for rations barely passed as edible. Another thing was that he did occasionally miss the sunlight, and lounging on a boat at sea, the gentle waves rocking him to and fro. But he would have to say that he missed his family the most. It wasn't necessarily seeing them, but hearing from them. Listening to how their lives where going. He would talk to Alan often, listen to him complain about school and how he wished he was out racing. Gordon of course knew that Alan often went out to practice, but he had promised that he wouldn't tell their father. He didn't talk to his other brothers quite a much, but a phone call once every month or two just to see how things were going. He wished he had been able to be up above to see John go to space, but he was sure there would be other times he'd be able to see a rocket explode under him.

Gordon leaned back in his chair and glanced over to where some of his experiments sat. It was dark, and he couldn't really see them, but he looked anyways. The station was silent, but it was nearing the end of his shift and soon the daily communications would be coming in. As if on cue the communications consul started beeping. Gordon jumped from his seat and made his way to the main command center to accept the incoming call.

"Gordon Tracy here. It is once again torrential rain, flooding, and zombies are banging at the door. We are still waiting on our rescue," Gordon couldn't help but laugh to himself.

"Yes, Tracy, I'm sure," The voice on the other side chided back, "Other than the imminent drowning and zombification of the entire crew, how was your shift?"

"Boring as usual. Everything is showing normal, experiments are progressing well, and I am tired. Can I go to bed now?"

"Sure, let the next shift know that we'll be in contact… wait…A message just came for you… holy shit…"

"Hey, what's up?" Gordon asked leaning toward the grainy display, "Hey, you still there?"

"Yeah, Tracy. I've… I've got some bad news for you. It looks like your father's plan crashed in the Pacific, there were no survivors." Gordon fell back into the chair his breath caught in his chest. "Gordon, did you receive that message?"

"Yeah," He cleared his throat, "Yeah, I heard you."

"Look, Gordon, we're sorry."

"Yeah, Thanks." Gordon shut off the comms off before they could apologize any more and just sat in the chair tears running down his face.


	2. The Day After

Chapter 2: The Day After

Virgil and Scott had stayed at a roadside motel in New Mexico the night before, having driven most of the day. Now they were about to make a mad dash across Texas and Oklahoma before hitting the Kansas state line. Scott was still quiet, not speaking even when Virgil tried to strike up a conversation. Finally, Virgil stopped trying, and thought back to what had happened when he went to pick Scott up.

Virgil pulled up to the gate at Edwards Air Force Base and explained his errand to the sentry on duty. After showing his license and taking the guest pass he pulled through the gate and into the main parking lot. He sat in his car for a moment, composing himself. This was going to be one of the hardest things he's ever done. Not quite as hard as it was to go into that morgue but close. To see his older brother so broken was something he thought he would never experience.

Virgil got out of his car and stretched, he had driven almost six hours the day before, and then another two today. Once he had Scott, there was another seventeen to go. He had thought about getting a plane ticket, but somehow felt that neither of them really wanted to step on a plane right at that moment. He made his way into the main building and looked around. The sentry said they would page Scott to meet him there. There weren't many people around, and Scott was not among them, so he walked up to the reception desk to see if they could page him again.

"Virgil?" A voice called out. It wasn't Scott but Virgil turned toward his name and saw a young blond haired man walking quickly toward him, "You're Virgil right? Scott's brother? I'm Paul Rand, one of his friends."

"Nice to meet you,Yeah, I'm Virgil. Where's Scott?"

"He's in his room. We were hoping a good nights sleep might help, but he's still pretty out of it."

"Damn," Virgil frowned, "Can you take me to him?"

"Of course, this way." Virgil followed Paul through the compound and to the barracks. They arrived at Scott's room to find a small crowd around it. Paul pushed his way through, Virgil close behind. As they got to the door, they could hear an argument from inside.

"I don't care what you say, it is a lie!" It was Scott's voice.

"Scott, you need to get packed." Another voice replied in what was an attempt at patience that was easily wearing out.

"I'm not going anywhere. My father is alive, it was just a nightmare. That's all this is, a nightmare," Scott yelled again.

"Everyone get out of here!" Paul yelled over the voices at those around him as Virgil made his way into the room.

"Scott!" He yelled as he grabbed his brother's shoulders, "Look at me!" Scott paused and allowed himself to be turned to look at his brother.

"Virgil? What are you doing here?" His voice was distant, his eyes unfocused.

"Scott," Virgil sighed and took a deep breath, "I'm here to take you home."

"Why?"

"You know why," Virgil clenched his jaw, "Dad is dead. We have to go bury him."

"No," Scott shook his head and dropped down onto his bed, "He's too young."

"Yes, he was," Virgil agreed as he pulled Scott's head to his stomach. There was a bit of silence as Mark, Paul, and Virgil waited to see what Scott would do next. Slowly Scott started to cry, tears rolled down his cheeks as he muffled his sobs in his brother's side. Virgil wiped his own eyes as they listened to a man who normally was so composed, someone they thought he could handle anything, completely crumble in his brother's arms. Mark and Paul excused themselves to give the brothers some privacy and Virgil sat down on the bed next Scott.

"Virgil, I have to go ID…"

"It's been done. I just came from LA."

"But, I said I…"

"It's been taken care of," Virgil repeated, "They're both being sent to Kansas. We'll need to get going as well, it's a long drive."

"I'm… I'm not ready," Scott stood up and wiped his eyes as he reached for the clothes he had previously thrown on the floor. Virgil helped and soon Scott's bags were packed. Scott was just zipping the bag up when there was a knock on the door.

"Sorry to barge in," It was Captain Barns, "I just wanted to check on Scott."

"I'm okay, Captain," Scott rubbed at his eyes again in embarrassment.

"I'm glad to hear it. Virgil is it? We talked on the phone."

"Oh yes, a pleasure to meet you," Virgil took the offered hand and shook it.

"I'm sorry you had to come all the way out here."

"No, it was no trouble. It'll be nice to have company on the drive home."

"You aren't flying?" The Captain asked a little surprised.

"I'm not sure I want to fly at the moment," Virgil frowned, "Is there anything Scott needs to do before we leave?"

"I understand," The Captain nodded, "Yes, actually he needs to go see Major Simms and confirm how long his leave is for."

"I'm not sure," Scott frowned, "What do you think Virgil?" Virgil looked from Scott to the Captain not used to having questions referred to him by his older brother.

"Why don't we all take the walk up to his office. You can discuss it on the way," The Captain suggested. Scott nodded and led the way out of his room.

Virgil followed next to the Captain keeping his eye on his brother's back, "I was shocked when you first told me how he was reacting," Virgil sighed as he rubbed his eyes,"But after thinking about the last time. We were quite young, but I think he reacted to Mom's death in about the same way."

"How young were you?"

"I was seven, Scott eight," Virgil replied, "I remember crying from the moment Dad told us. Gordon and Alan, the two youngest, they were only three and four. They didn't understand, but John and I, we knew, and they knew we were upset. Dad had tried to comfort us a bit, but he was still in shock as well and I remember John and I holding on to Gordon and Alan and just crying. Scott was quiet, stayed to himself for several days. Then, as if a switch had been flipped he came over to us and started to comfort us. Telling us everything would be okay. I don't ever remember seeing him cry, he just stood straight, held onto us younger ones and said that everything would be okay."

"I see," The Captain mused as they continued to follow Scott, "So you think once the funeral is over he'll snap out of it?"

"Once we get home, there will be things to be taken care of… people to take care of, he'll snap out of it. I hope." They had arrived at the Major's office, and were led inside. Virgil had tried to stay in the outer room with the secretary, but Scott pulled him in. The Major looked at Scott and the Captain with a raised eyebrow and Virgil could see the Captain give a slight shrug.

"Captain, Lieutenant, and who is this?"

"Major," Scott saluted, "This is my brother, Virgil."

"Pleasure to meet you," The Major nodded to Virgil who nodded back, "I take it you came to collect your brother."

"Yes, sir," Virgil nodded, not sure how to address the man.

"And how long do you think you'll need to get things settled Lieutenant," The Major asked turning back to Scott.

"I'm not sure," Scott replied looking over at Virgil who jumped a little at being referred to again.

"I see," The Major nodded seeing what the situation was. Scott was still shaken up, though he knew the Lieutenant to be of sound mind and had passed cool under pressure, but everyone had their weak point, and for this man it was obviously his family, "Virgil was it? What all still needs to be done?"

"Oh, well, I've arranged for the bodies to be shipped back to Kansas, but that's all I've done so far. We need to figure out funeral arrangements and well, Dad's stuff," Virgil frowned thinking of all the things they needed deal with.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have lawyers to help you with that," The Major nodded, "I'll put down two weeks, I hope that will be enough."

"Yes, sir, that should be plenty," Virgil nodded looking over at Scott who had faded out again, "Right Scott?"

"Yes, Sir," Scott saluted not really knowing what was going on, both the Major and Captain frowned.

"You listen to me Lieutenant," the Major announced standing up and leaning over his desk making sure Scott was paying attention, "You need to get yourself straighten out, or else you'll be grounded for good. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Scott frowned taking in a deep breath and nodded. They left the office after that, and the Captain also said his good-byes.

Virgil and Scott returned to Scott's room to grab his things and left, saying goodbye to his friends as they passed them in the hall.

Virgil had hoped having his brother along would make the trip faster, but that had not happened. He looked over at Scott as they passed the state line into Kansas, he wasn't sure what to do for him, or if just letting him be was what was best.

Alan was the first to arrive at the ranch. He had left the race track as soon as the medic said he was clear. He had had a few bumps and bruises but was otherwise okay. He made his way back to his dorms, alerted the school of his situation and left. It was a five hour drive and he arrived late that night. The house was empty, which gave Alan the creeps. When all his brother's were still in school, there was always someone at home, even between all their extracurricular activities. However, as each one graduated and went on with their lives the house became quieter and quieter. By the time Gordon had left for the Submarine Service it was just Alan and Grandma Tracy, his father not being around much. The house was a very lonely place during his Senior year in high school, and he tended to spend more time than was necessary out on the race track to keep busy. Then once Alan had moved out to go to school, Grandma Tracy decided to move back to her own home that she had kept in California. Now the house sat silent and looming to the youngest Tracy, no one had been there for a long time he could tell. His father officially still called it home, but was gone on business so much the he was away more often than he was there. He had to correct himself, his father did call it home, but it wasn't anymore. He wondered what would happen to the old house. The land around it had been slowly sold off to their neighbors when his father had been too busy to deal with maintaining it. So now it was just a few acres and the house itself, but it would always be the ranch to the boys.

Alan went around the house and turned on all of the lights. It was a waste of electricity but it helped to dispel the feeling of loneliness about the place. He then went to the kitchen to see if there was anything left there to eat. The refrigerator was empty, and the pantry had only a few cans of beans and vegetables left. It had been a long anxious drive and he didn't really feel like making the two hour round trip to town to get food. Instead he decided to drag a blanket and pillow from his room and sat in front of the TV in the lounge watching re-runs of old twentieth century shows.

Alan woke late the next morning, still curled up in the chair in the lounge. He stretched and groaned. His little accident the previous day, while wasn't serious, had wore him out and his choice of bed hadn't helped. It was almost noon, and he had to get into town to do some shopping, and to pick up Grandma Tracy at the airport. He had no clue when any of his other brother's would show up, but he hoped it would be soon. He took a quick shower, noticing that there was no soap or shampoo, something else that needed bought, and dried off quickly. He checked the bathrooms, and bedrooms to see if there were any other necessities that were needed before jumping back into his car and taking off for town.

The closest town was a small one, just big enough for a few stores of necessity, a bank, and post office. Alan made his way to the small airport on the outskirts. Normally a small town like this one wouldn't have considered maintaining a runway, but Jeff Tracy had argued the necessity for a place emergency planes and helicopters could land. It also helped that Jeff was willing to help fund the airport. Of course he wanted to use it for his own purposes as well. Having an hour drive home after landing was much better than a three hour one. Jeff used it often when the boys were young, trying to be home as much as possible. The boys used it on occasion when they were in their late teens to make quick trips to one of the bigger cities for a fun night out, or art exhibition in Virgil's case.

Alan pulled into the drive and past the guard post that never had anyone on duty. The airport had a large fence around the property itself, the gate remaining closed unless you knew the code to get in. Alan punched in the code and drove up to the main building, nothing more than a small shack near the center of the runway. There were a few small hangers off to the side, two of which the Tracy's owned, and a fuel tank on the far side of the runway. Alan punched in the code for the door and entered the main building, making himself at home behind the radio console. They didn't have anyone on staff that stayed at the airport. If you wanted to use the runway, you either had to call ahead so someone could be sent out (The Tracy's sometimes volunteered for that duty), or know someone who was a licensed controller (All of the Tracy's were). So Alan turned on the radio and fiddled with the dials as he pulled on the headset. Virgil had called him during his drive the previous night, his Grandma was scheduled to take a commercial flight from California that morning, and then Virgil said he had arranged for a private plane to bring her there. Still if everything was on time, he should be hearing from the incoming plane soon.

He sat there, playing with a pencil that had been left by the last person to use the airfield when the call finally came in.

'Utica UNICOM, Cessna 485EF requests the active.'

'Active at Utica is three-two,' Alan jumped in his seat giving the pilot the heading of the runway.

'Utica traffic, Cessna 5EF, eight miles southeast, will overfly the field at two thousand feet for a left downwind entry to runway three-two, Utica.'

Alan relaxed again, they were still a bit away, but they would be here soon. He just had to wait on more contact from the plane.

'Utica traffic, Cessna 5EF is one mile to the west, to enter the left downwind for runway three-two, Utica.'

Alan sat up straighter, and looked out the small window above the radio. He could see the plane starting its decent.

'Utica traffic, Cessna 5EF, on final for runway three-two, full stop, Utica.'

'Cessna 5EF, affirmative, runway is clear.'

'Affirmative, Cessna 5EF.' Alan watched as the plane slowly touched down, the wheels screeching a little on landing. He waited, knowing that he wasn't quite done. 'Utica traffic, Cessna 5EF is clear of the active, Utica' Once the pilot had finished his announcement Alan was out the door and waiting for the plane to taxi to the building. It rumbled to a stop as the pilot door swung open and the man behind the stick jumped out.

"You Alan Tracy," He asked yelling loud enough to be heard over the dying engines.

"Yeah, how's your cargo?"

"Talkative," He smiled as he led the way safely around the plane, "Sorry to hear about your dad."

"Yeah," Alan nodded, not really wanting to get into casual conversation about that yet. The pilot pulled open the passenger door and held out his hand. Grandma Tracy was scooting out of her seat and found the first foothold. She took two steps down, and the pilot took her by the waist and lifted her the rest of the way down.

"Alan," She exclaimed once firmly on the ground. Alan moved forward and encased his grandmother in a hug. She returned it tightening her hold on him as if making sure that he at least was still here. The pilot left the two and went to the cargo hold to extract her luggage.

"How was your flight," Alan asked as he took her back around the plane and into the main terminal.

"Tiring. I couldn't sleep at all last night, I was so worried about you all."

"We're fine, and we'll all be together again shortly… well, most of us," Alan frowned.

"Gordon won't be able to come?"

"I doubt it," Alan shook his head.

"Oh dear."

"Wait here for a bit. I need to go refuel the plane and make sure he makes it out again. Then we can stop by the store and then go home."

"Is there nothing at the house?"

"A can of beans, and two cans of asparagus," Alan grimaced.

"Yes, the store it is then," Grandma nodded. Alan left his Grandma in the terminal and rode with the pilot to the fuel tanks. They stood and chatted for a bit, the pilot was polite keeping the conversation away from family matters. Once the plane was fueled up, Alan returned to the radio and put the headset on.

'Utica traffic, Cessna 5EF is ready for takeoff.'

'Cessna 5EF, cleared takeoff runway three-two. Have a safe trip,' Alan replied keeping his eye on the small plane.

'Affirmative, Cessna 5EF.' The plane sped up and took up into the air, disappearing into the distance.

"Alright, Grandma. Let's get going," Alan turned the radio off and strode over and picked up her bags, two old leather suitcases she's had for as long as he remembered. He loaded them up into his car and then opened the door for her. Once she was settled he got in himself and took off.

They arrived at the store minutes later, Alan grabbed one of the big carts and had it ready for his grandmother to push. They walked down the small isles, his grandmother calling out items as they passed and Alan obediently put them in the cart. They made it through to the checkout as people watched them, their eyes wide, but none brave enough to ask why they were back in town. Small towns, equal huge rumor mills. Alan knew it would only take time before someone asked, and he would be forced to tell them. Then the word would spread like wildfire. They checked out, the clerk he had known since he was little, but they just smiled and welcomed them home. Yes, the people of the small town were nosey, but they were polite about it as well. They wouldn't ask until the gossip had made it around. That however, did remind Alan of something else that needed to be done. He loaded the groceries and his Grandma into the car and then jogged across the street to city hall.

City Hall was small, and usually only had one person in it at any time, the secretary. She took care of all the minor, daily issues, and relayed anything more to the mayor who was usually out taking care of his own farm.

"Why isn't it Alan Tracy. What are you doing back in town," She asked a broad smile on her face which faded when she got a good look at his own expression, "Oh no, what's happened? One of your brothers? Is it Scott," She asked always having had a fondness for the eldest.

"No, Scott's fine. I just wanted to let you know that you may need to get someone at the airport by the end of the week, maybe next week as well, as consistently as possible."

"Why's that? I can tell by your face young man that something is wrong. You better just tell me and get it over with," She had stood up and walked around the desk keeping her eyes on him. Alan took a deep breath and looked up at her,

"Dad's dead. Yesterday in an plane crash."

"No," The secretary gasped and shook her head, "No… are you sure?"

"Virgil saw the body," Alan nodded looking away again knowing that if he kept looking at her shocked and sad eyes he would cry again.

"Oh, Alan," She exclaimed as she pulled him into a hug. She pulled herself away grabbing a tissue from her desk and dabbing at her eyes, "I'll call Shep Miller, see if one of his boys will be able to man the radio. Have you arranged for the funeral yet?"

"No, I'm the first one home. I just picked up Grandma from the airport and got some groceries."

"Alright, well if you boys need anything you know the phone number. I'd be more than happy to help out."

"Thanks, I'll let them know," Alan nodded and then made his way back out and flopped back down in the car.

"It had to be done," Grandma nodded laying her hand on his arm, "Best the town hears it from one of us than from the news factories."

"I know," Alan nodded, "Will it get any easier talking about it? I feel like every time I have to say it, I'm about to choke."

"That's hard to say. Sometimes I can talk about your grandfather and mother and be filled with warm memories and love, other times, I just can't get their names out."

"Oh," Alan sighed tightening his hand on the steering wheel.

"But that doesn't mean you shouldn't talk. Holding it in makes it worse," Grandma Tracy sighed and turned to look out the window, "I just hope Scott is taking this better than when your mother died."

"Scott," Alan asked as he started up the car and pulled out of the small parking lot to head home, "From what the other's said, Scott was everything to us after mom died. Tried to fill in for her in a way."

"He did," Grandma Tracy agreed but then shook her head, "But it took a week after the funeral before he became that way. Before that he had… well, locked everything inside him. He didn't cry, didn't grieve, just sat wherever we put him and stayed there frozen as if nobody was home. At meals he would eat maybe two bites, and then excuse himself. I was quite worried about him."

"What changed?"

"Let me think, yes, that was it," Grandma Tracy looked over at Alan and smiled, "You took your mother's death in stride. Of course, you were too young to really understand what had happened. Occasionally you would ask where your mother was, but then you were off running and playing again in no time. One day, just about a month after the funeral, you and Gordon were running around outside. Scott was sitting at the window, it looked as if he was staring off into space. You had tripped and fallen in the gravel and scrapped your knee. You started crying your head off as if your leg had just been cut in two, Gordon didn't know what to do so he started crying as well. I was nearby, doing some knitting when I heard the noise and went to stand up, but stopped. Scott's face had changed. He was looking out the window still, but he was looking at you two now, crying your heads off in the middle of the driveway. And then he was gone, out the door and in the driveway next to you. I walked over to the window and watched. He picked you up and set you in his lap looking at the scrapped knee and murmuring to you as he rocked you slightly. He then reached out and waved for Gordon to come over and pulled him in as well, hugging you both still murmuring to you two. You quieted down and he carried you into the house. Walked right past me and set you on the counter getting the first aid kit and tending to your knee. Gordon was right next to him holding onto his shirt. I stayed out of the way and watched.

"Soon your knee was fixed, your tears dried and you both went running outside to play again. Scott looked around, right past me again, and went upstairs. I followed quietly and watched. He went to Virgil's room and knocked. There was no answer so he opened the door. I could hear Virgil yelling at him to get out, but Scott wouldn't listen to him. I snuck up and stood outside the door. Scott had sat down on the bed near Virgil. He had been sketching in a notebook and looked put out that his brother had burst his way in. Scott just laid a hand on his shoulder and apologized. Said he was sorry and that he wouldn't isolate them any more. It was silent for a while, I could't see into the room well, but then I could hear the two brothers move, and peered in to see them hugging. Virgil crying again. He stayed there for a good while and I was about to leave, when he kissed Virgil on the head and walked out. This time he looked right up at me and smiled. He then went straight into John's room, without even knocking. I followed, we both knew John wasn't in there, but up on the roof. Scott climbed out onto the tree outside his window and climbed up. I sat at the window, I could barely hear their conversation, but it was about the same as what he had told Virgil. After a little bit, Scott came back down and into John's room. He then looked at me and smiled, told me he was good now, so were his brothers, and that he would help take care of them."

"Wow," Alan mumbled in shock, "Scott's always been so cool and collected, I would have never thought…"

"Yes, he changed after that day. Before, while he loved you all, you were more of a nuisance to him. Kids that were always getting in the way. After that, you were his world." Alan concentrated on the road ahead of him. He hadn't really thought about his mother's death. Like his grandam said, he was too young to understand, let alone remember. But he was old enough now, and it was killing him. He couldn't imagine the way his older siblings had felt back then, or how they had dealt with it. And now they had to go through it a second time.

They pulled into the drive and found another car already there. Scott was standing outside of the car, staring blankly at the house before him as Virgil pulled a bag from the trunk. He stopped as Alan approached and came up to the car as they came to a stop.

"Oh, good, you brought food," Virgil smiled when saw the bags in the back seat.

"Have you talked to John," Alan asked as he pulled a bag out and handed it to Virgil.

"He just called me about an hour ago. He'll be able to come up for the funeral, but that's it. They're on a tight schedule."

"You mean he's still going into space?"

"If he can, yeah," Virgil grabbed bags and followed Alan into the house.

"Why?"

"You know why," Virgil sighed, "Chances like this don't come along often. If he doesn't take this one, it could be another couple of years before he is asked again."

"I know but…"

"Dad wouldn't want him to cancel. You know that."

"I know, but I want him here," Alan whined a little.

"It's not like when we were kids, Alan. We can't just retreat from the world for a few months to heal. We have to keep going on." Virgil set the bags down and turned to retrieve more from the car.

"What about Scott," Alan asked looking out of the window to his brother who still stood in front of the house frozen.

"I don't know," Virgil frowned following Alan's gaze. Alan watched his brother for a little. Their grandma had walked up to him and laid a hand on his arm, but he didn't seem to notice. She hung her head and looked to the house with a frown. Alan walked out of the door, and up to Scott. He stood just a foot away and looked up into his brother's face. There was no emotion on his face, but he could see the sadness in his eyes, and the disbelief of what had happened. Alan needed his brothers to get him through this, he knew that. But he also realized that his brothers needed him too. He took a step closer and wrapped his arms around Scott's torso, clinging to him tightly.

"Scott, what are we going to do," Alan asked, muffled in Scott's t-shirt. Slowly, Scott looked down at the blond head and raised his arms, wrapping them around his brother. He pulled him in tighter, his eyes clearing, tears falling down into the blond locks. He lowered his head and buried his face into Alan's hair,

"We mourn him. We remember him. We keep going on."

"I'm not sure I can," Alan replied wiping his own tears on Scott's shirt.

"You can, you will, but you won't be alone. We'll all be here. We'll help each other."

"Like we did before," Virgil added walking over to the two and pulling them into a hug of his own. Scott reached out and wrapped his arms around Virgil encasing Alan between them, whispering a thank you in his ear. Virgil just smiled, "Anything for my brothers." They stood there, silently for some time, Grandma looking on, before Alan decided to break the moment.

"Uh, guys… I can't quite breath in here." The two eldest broke the bond laughing at their youngest brother, "And you both could use a shower, phew."

"Yeah, a seventeen hour car trip will do that," Virgil laughed as he smelled his shirt.

"Good thing I remembered the soap," Alan smiled wiping his eyes again.

"Come on, let's get these things inside," Scott announced as he walked over to Grandma Tracy and gave her a hug.

"Yes, you all need a good meal I imagine," She announced waving Virgil over for his own hug, "After you all take showers of course." They laughed and the house, that was so creepy and intimidating to Alan the previous night had suddenly warmed up and was welcoming again.


	3. 8 Years Later

Author's note: Reminder, so you don't get confused, I'm mixing things up, using visuals from TAG, but background info from the original series.

Chapter 3: 8 Years Later

Scott sat at his desk looking over the personnel files of a new group of officers that had just been transferred to Edwards Air Force Base. They had just recently transferred an entire squadron from the base and replaced it with all these new pilots. They weren't inexperienced, they were all top in their field for their ranks. The problem was that he couldn't put all the new ones together to form a new squad. What had to be done was to split up the established squadrons and reorganize them anew, and he was sure that nobody was going to be happy about that.

He sighed as he flipped closed the last file. The new members weren't due until after he returned from his vacation. He could put it off till then. He looked over at the calendar that sat on his desk, small dates and important meetings scribbled in the small boxes. A long line ran through the next two weeks, with the words vacation written through it. It was the longest vacation he had taken since he had joined the Air Force, and it was partially being forced upon him. He had always taken a short vacation during this time of year, the anniversary of his father's death. It had been a major moment in his life, and it was something he was still trying to deal with. It seemed odd to him, that while his mother had died when he was young, it didn't seem to nag on him like his father's death had. Maybe it was because he was young, and because his father had still been there. Now he had neither.

He looked over to the framed picture he had on his desk. It was a very old picture, one of him and his brothers, flanked on either side by his mother and father. Alan had only been maybe two years old at the time. His mother was leaning over slightly holding onto his arms to help him stand, but you could tell that he was wanting to walk away and wasn't looking at the camera. John was holding onto Gordon's hand, the three-year-old interested in something off camera as well, his stuffed fish firmly wrapped in his other arm. John was being polite, smiling at the camera, as was Virgil and Scott himself. Next to Scott was his father, a big happy smile on his face, proud of the family lined up beside him.

Scott took a deep breath, he didn't think his father would be too proud of his family anymore. It seemed that the family had cracked when his mother died, but they were able to tape themselves back together and move one. After his father's death, the cracks deepened, and the tape no longer held. They had remained close for the year following his death, at least Scott had thought so. But then things seemed to crumble after that.

Scott had taken a couple of days leave, like he would for years to come, to go and visit his father's grave. He knew it was silly, but he felt he could still talk to him, get some advice from him there. Sometimes he would talk to his mother too, as if they were both sitting there in front of him listening to his worries and problems. He had just returned to the base when he received a call from WASP control. Gordon had been involved in a horrible crash. Scott took immediate leave to go and see him. When he had arrived at the hospital, Gordon was in surgery. Slowly one by one, his brothers arrived. Alan came first, rushing into the waiting room worry and panic on his face. John was next, worried but more calm than his younger sibling. Hours passed, and finally Virgil showed up just as the surgeon came to talk to the dwindling family. Gordon would be okay, but he had a long recovery ahead of him. They were shown to the recovery room, where Gordon lay on his back, his head lifted and his knees bent. He was intubated, but they were assured that he would be taken off soon. The family kept vigil in the room until he was moved to the intensive care unit. Once there, they took turns sitting by their brother's side. They took the tube out of his mouth after one week. He finally woke up after three. Everyone was happy, at least Scott thought they were.

One day, four weeks after Gordon's accident, Scott was preparing to leave, he had, taken another few days to come and see his brother, but had to get back to the base. The other's were still there, though John would have to leave soon as well as he had just been informed that he had been chosen to go into space again. Alan swore he wouldn't leave until Gordon had left the hospital, and even then he wasn't sure. When asked about school he said he had already arranged everything, he could take his classes long distance. When asked about his racing he said that Gordon was more important. Scott couldn't have been prouder of his little brother. Scott was in Gordon's room talking to him and Virgil, John had gone with Alan to figure out some more permanent lodging for himself, when the argument happened.

"Don't worry, Gordon, I'll come and see you again when I get a chance. And I'll call you even more," Scott smiled at his little brother who grimaced back at him. The pain had to be crazy, Scott thought but tried to keep the worry off of his face. "I'm sure Virgil will try and come see you again too, won't you Virgil?"

"I don't know if I'll have the time," Virgil mumbled. He was standing at the window looking sour.

"Come on, it's not like you need permission like me and John," Scott smiled walking over and putting his hand on his brother. Virgil just swiped his hand away, "Virgil?"

"I'm tired of acting like everything is okay," Virgil growled keeping his eyes away from Scott's own. "You always act like everything is going to be okay, but it's not."

"Virgil, Gordon is going to be okay, the doctors have even said so."

"No, they haven't. Yes, he's alive, he will live, but there is no guarantee that he will walk again," Virgil exclaimed throwing his arm out to wave at the young man trapped in his bed by machines, steel frames, and a body that my never work properly again.

"That doesn't mean that everything is not going to be okay," Scott argued beginning to get worried.

"You don't get it Scott. You can't tell me you haven't seen it, you haven't suspected it. Our lives are shattered and they'll never be the same again!"

"Virgil what are you talking about?"

"Us, Scott," Virgil growled, "When Mom died, we had Dad to keep us going, to keep us together. Now that he's gone, we have nothing."

"I will keep us together," Scott argued.

"NO, You won't! You think you helped to raise us, but you didn't. Dad did, and Grandma did, and she's sitting at home worrying after us, and can do nothing to help us. Dad was everything to us and now he's gone!"

"We still have each other!" Scott yelled back, and then shook his head quieting down, "Virgil we can't do this here, not in front of Gordon."

"Why not? First we lose Dad, now Gordon's gone and gotten himself almost killed. It's only a matter of time before we lose Alan in a wreck, John in space, or you crashing one of those prototypes you fly!"

"These are the lives we have chosen for ourselves. I'm sorry if we worry you, but that is life, anything could happen at any time."

"But that's the thing Scott, I can't take it. I can't handle another emergency. I can't handle my brothers being so flippant about their lives and risking themselves everyday. I just can't do it anymore."

"So what do you propose?" Scott asked confusion and frustration clear on his face.

"Nothing, I've…. I'm just out of here," And with that Virgil turned and left.

Scott had tried calling him after he had returned to base. At first his calls were sent right to his voice mail, and soon the number had been disconnected. He tried calling him at Tracy Industries only to find that he had quit. He took leave and went to his apartment, only to find he had moved. He had gone so far as to hire a detective to find him, but there was no sign of Virgil Tracy. Ever since then he had gone to any art exhibit, or music recitals hoping that one of them would be Virgil's. But he had not heard or seen any sign of his brother since.

The trouble didn't stop there. Gordon was in the hospital of over four months. Alan had stayed by him like he said, but tension was growing between the brothers. Once Gordon had been released Alan promised to help take care of him and make sure he went to therapy and did all he could to regain the use of his legs. He had gotten an apartment that they both could live in, but arguments seemed to become the normal between them. Scott would get calls from Alan, frustrated and worried about Gordon. Usually, Scott was able to give him a pep talk, and Alan would be wound up and ready to do what he needed to get Gordon going. Then one day several months later he got the call he would never forget.

"Scott," Alan exclaimed through the phone, "You have to come over. I can't talk him out of it."

"Out of what," Scott asked, thinking this was just one of his normal frustrations.

"He want's to quit therapy. He says he's given up on walking again."

"Again?" Scott sighed, this hadn't been the first time Gordon had said he had given up, so Scott was preparing his normal pep talk, but Alan hadn't finished.

"It's serious this time, Scott. He's already cancelled all his appointments, and even said he was moving out."

"Where is he going to move to?"

"I don't know, but he's scheduled a moving crew to come in a few days. I even tried to get him to go swimming and he refused." Scott knew it was serious if Gordon refused to go swimming. He looked at his points, he could take a couple of days, but he had used up most of them when Gordon was in the hospital.

"Alright, I'll be up there in a couple of day, just keep him there." Alan agreed and they hung up.

Scott arranged for the leave, and made it up two days later. When he was dropped off by the taxi at their apartment there was a large truck outside and men moving stuff from their unit.

"Alan? Gordon?" he called as he sidestepped some men and walked into the living room. Gordon was in his wheelchair in the hallway, instructing some men on what to pack out of his room. Alan was no where to be seen. "Gordon!"

"Damn," Gordon exclaimed when he saw Scott. He turned in his chair and wheeled back into the living room so he wasn't in the way of the movers.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I'm moving. I can't stand being here anymore," Gordon snapped.

"And where are you moving to?"

"That is none of your business," Gordon replied and then answered one of the mover's questions.

"Yes, it very much is," Scott tried to argue.

"You are not my keeper, you are not my mother, and you are not my father. And just in case you have forgotten, they aren't here anymore. So, no, it isn't."

"Where's Alan?" Scott asked, seeing if he could come at this another way.

"Off running some errand. I made him think that I was second guessing this, so he was more than happy to go chasing wild geese. I needed him out of the way while they were here."

"And what is Alan going to think when he comes back and you're gone?"

"I don't care. I'm tired of listening to Alan and his pep talks. Life isn't going to get better, this is my life now. I need to just accept it and move on."

"But the doctor's said…"

"They said there was a chance, I've just come to accept that that chance has come and gone. Look this is my life now. Accept it." Scott was at a loss. Gordon had just completely given up all hope of walking again. He couldn't believe this young man, who had been so hyper and full of love and hope had turned so sour.

"I can't let you do this," Scott stated looking at his brother in desperation.

"What, are you going to stop me like you did Virgil? Oh that's right, we don't know where he's at." Gordon had turned to make his way into another part of the apartment, but Scott stopped him and forced him to turn and face him.

"Gordon, I will not give up on you," Scott practically yelled at his brother, but Gordon just turned his head, not giving him a bit of attention. "Gordon look at me!" Scott did yell this time, but Gordon refused to respond.

"That's the last of it," one of the men announced hovering hesitantly in the doorway.

"Good, I'll meet you there." The man disappeared out the door and Gordon finally turned to look at his brother, "Don't try to follow me. I need some time alone to figure out what to do from here." With that, Gordon disappeared. Scott stood there in shock. He just couldn't believe what had just happened. He wandered back to Gordon's room. It had been completely emptied except for some of the wall decorations. He saw it right off, and walked over to the shadow box that displayed Gordon's gold medal. Scott took it down and leaned on the wall, sliding down to the floor. He held the box to him and started crying. He wasn't sure how long he had been there when he heard Alan's voice echo through the place.

"Gordon! I found it, I had to… Gordon? Gordon!" Alan ran into Gordon's room and looked around in shock. His face landed on the crumpled form of his brother on the floor, "Scott, what happened?"

"He's gone," Scott announced with a thick voice, "And he wouldn't say where he was going." Alan collapsed next to his brother, tears running down his face.

"Why is this happening," Alan asked, "First Virgil, and now Gordon."

"I don't know. God, I wish Dad were still here. We'd all be together if he were," Scott sobbed. He reached out and pulled his littlest brother to him.

Fate decided to see just how far it could push the family. A year later, after a bout of pneumonia that she wasn't able to recover from, Grandma Tracy died. John had just gone into space for a three year mission, so the only family at the funeral was Scott and Alan. That had been the last time they had seen each other face to face. Instead they had turned to their careers to fill the void left by their once big family.

"Major Tracy," A young man popped his head in with a handful of papers, "I have just a few more things for you to look at before you start your vacation." Scott nodded and pushed the unpleasant memories to the back of his head as his secretary laid the papers down before him on the desk. They were last minute leave requests. He approved it all, rather having the men off the base causing trouble rather than doing it on base while he was gone. With the papers signed he put on his jacket, grabbed his hat and left, his mind wandering back to the past.

Scott had not had it easy after Gordon's disappearance. He tried to go back to his flying, but something was missing. After having several meetings with his Captain and the Major, it was decided that he would be better off in another unit. So, he was transferred to an aid unit in the middle east. He would fly in supplies, and sometimes patrol the area to protect the citizens that tried to make their home there. It was during his early days in this unit that he found himself in a dog fight, protecting a small village on the ground from bombings. He had taken his plane to its limit, to protect his squad and the people below. In the end, he had been shot down, two planes in his squad had been lost, but the enemy had run away. He made his way to the village to make sure the people were safe, and then walked all the way to find his fallen comrades. He used their parachutes as stretchers and brought them back to the village where they could be taken to safety. Because of what he had done he was awarded the medal of valor, though he didn't really feel that he had earned it. He continued to help aid the people of the area for several years, earning his promotion to Captain while there. He had moved around a few times after that, and when he finally earned his promotion to Major they asked where he would like to go. Somehow he found himself saying that he'd like to be back at Edwards.

He had kept in contact with Alan and John over the years, though John was a hard man to get ahold of. He spent so much of his time in space, Scott started to wonder if he knew what gravity was anymore. John had become their go to scientist for most of their missions and had even served on the space station for several years. Alan had gone back to campus after Gordon's disappearance and tried to concentrate on his studies. He ended up at the race track more than in class, but somehow had still graduated with honors. With John's encouragement, Alan accepted a position with NASA, but it only lasted a year. He quit and decided to go into racing full time. He now ran a racing team and raced in events all over the US. It was hard to turn on a race without seeing him in it.

Scott shook his head as he drove toward the small airfield where he kept his private plane. He wasn't sure when he would see his brother's again, but knew it wouldn't be during this vacation. This vacation wasn't going to be a completely relaxing one either. He was going to stop by the ranch, make sure everything was being take care of, and visit his parents. No one lived at the ranch anymore, but he rented it out to city people who wanted a taste of country life. Sometimes the neighboring farmers would offer to let the visitors help with their chores, for a small price of course. It was an arrangement that the city agreed to, and seemed to enjoy. Scott just had to stop by on occasion to make sure the house didn't have any major repairs to be taken care of. Once done with that, it would only take him a day or two, he was off to the South Pacific.

After his father's death, there had been a lot to take care of. The company was made public, each brother received a good amount of the shares, but this allowed it so that none of them were personally responsible for the running of it. Their inheritance was split evenly, and part of that inheritance was his father's retirement island. He had paid for it in full, so there was nothing owed on it, but none of the brothers were interested in going out to it to see what had been done. So, for the last eight years it had sat, and Scott thought it finally time to go see what was there.

The house in Kansas was still in good condition. Some trim was coming off, and a cabinet door in the kitchen needed to be reattached, but that was the wear and tear when people were coming and going all the time. He arranged for someone to go and fix the items, and then went to the cemetery to talk to his parents.

"Hi, Mom, Dad," Scott greeted the headstone as he sat down in the grass, "It's been another year. I'm still at Edwards. Dad you wouldn't believe what they did to me before I left, took a whole squad away. Now I have to reorganize everyone. They're not going to like me very much for awhile. Other than that it's going well. One of my friends from when I was stationed there before, Paul Rand? Well he's a Captain still and is under my command. I thought it might be odd, but he's still a nice guy. He's married now, invited me to meet his wife and kid. Nice family. He told me about our other friend, Mark Nelson, I think you met them both when we saw you in LA once. Well, Mark got sent off to some base in the middle of nowhere, for no reason. No one knew what happened to get him isolated like that. But then, we just heard that he's a Lieutenant Colonel! One of the youngest in history! We're trying to get a hold of him and find out what he's been up to, but he is one hard man to get ahold of. Kind of reminds me of you," Scott laughed a little and looked up around the quiet lawn, "Alan's doing good. His team is up to four drivers. They drive in a few different types of cars, I can't keep them all straight. But if his team is in a race you can bet they finish in the first several spots. We talked on the phone just the other day. He's just the way you remember him I'm sure. Happy and enjoying life, I'm happy for him. He wants to come by and visit me sometime, probably when the racing season is over. Though he's said that every year. He said he has some plans this time and I'm almost afraid to ask what they are. John should be coming back down to earth soon, later this week I think. He's been in space two years this time. I think they already have him planned to go up again for a longer stint, so there probably won't be any time for me to visit him. He's as busy as you were when we were little. Home for a week or two then back for more training and prep before your next excursion.

"Still no sign of Virgil or Gordon. I still go to art exhibitions and recitals. Even if he isn't playing or displaying, maybe I could catch him walking through. Every time I see a swimming event on TV I stop to watch. I know he's not going to be there, but I can't help it. I miss them Dad." Scott took a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. "Well, I guess my life's not too exciting. I miss you and mom. I try to keep positive, but it's hard sometimes. Take care, I'll try to do the same. Love you both. Oh, by the way, Dad. I'm heading out to your retirement island. I hope I find something interesting, wouldn't want to go and find that I've wasted my vacation." Scott laughed a little as he stood up, laying his hand on the double headstone for a moment before walking away.

Scott left that same day and arrived in LA near nightfall. He got himself a hotel and stayed the night, planning to leave early the next morning in a new plane. His normal plane was good for jumps to and from the ranch and to some of the cities around the US, but he was going to be taking a five hour trip across the ocean. He needed something more attuned to that type of trip.

He loaded up the top of the line seaplane, he was able to borrow it from a friend, with the supplies he thought he might need. Food, fuel, tools, he had no idea what the state of the island was in. He took off just after daybreak and made his way west. The flight was easy, and he allowed his mind to wander. Unfortunately it wandered back to the files he had left on his desk. He played with the combinations in his head, taking two from one squad and putting them with another from a third squad and adding in a new person to the mix. He hated having to split squads up, usually by now they were so used to each other's movements that it benefited them to stay together. But he couldn't have a squad that did not have an experienced test pilot among them.

Scott pushed the problem of the squadrons out of his mind when he first caught a glimpse of the island. It was a rocky piece of land, with a little bit of foliage along one side of it. He brought his plane around to get a look of the layout. He could see what had once been a runway in the midst of the green trees and plans, many of them had spread across the tarmac covering the strip and several large lumps that sat upon it, meaning he would't be using it. The house, he was surprised to see sat on the rockier side of the island. There was a small beach below it, next to a large cave. Scott figured that would be the best place to set his plane down and did so with caution. He found some old posts in the water, seeing them lined up he figured it had been the start of a pier, though it didn't look like planks had ever been attached. He tied his plane to one of the posts and loaded some rafts with his supplies. Once on the beach he looked up at the towering building perched on the face of the cliff.

"Why did father plan it that way," He wondered as he looked for a way up. There was a cement stairway with a rusty handrail not far off. It would take him several trips to make it up, but it seemed to be the best way. He grabbed some of the perishable items in their cooler, and carried it up the stairs. By the time he reached the top he was running out of breath, and lost it completely when he saw the complex before him. It had been impressive from the air, but coming face to face with it was amazing.

The house rose out of the mountain with a large peak on its roof, the two levels facing the ocean as open as one could get. The deck was bespeckled with with old machinery and crates that had been left to the weather. In the center was a magnificent olympic sized swimming pool. The sight of the pool brought back memories of Gordon, knowing his father had had it installed just for him. Scott turned from the pool and walked into the ground floor. It was the kitchen, and dinning areas. The whole face of the house was open, though it looked as if there were windows that could be closed in case of a storm. The house itself seem finished. However, it was dirty, and he imagined some animals had made their way in to claim it for themselves.

He wanted to explore some more, but knew he needed to get his supplies up first. After the second trip, he knew that lugging everything up that way was was not going to work. He looked around and noticed a set of pulleys embedded in the ground and a fairly solid looking post that hung out over the end of the cliff. He looked down and thought he could see the square outline of a wooden platform at the end of the rope. He made his way down, and dusted off the platform. It was still quite sturdy, so he loaded his things upon it, and tied a second rope to the platform carrying this rope up with him. He threaded the second rope through the pulleys with the first as a backup should the first one break. It didn't and he was able to pull all of his supplies up in one go. Once he had gotten them into the house and packed into the refrigerator, he was shocked that it was still working, he took the first set of stairs he came to, and made his way into the lounge and the largest part of the front of the house. It was a large area, with a sunken sitting area. A large desk sat not far away, and in the corner was a large grand piano. Once again, Scott was reminded of a brother he missed dearly. He forced his eyes away and up to a small balcony that held some seating and a bookshelf. The books were still there, some blown over by storms that had passed through, but he could see the splendor the house had once been. He continued his tour, looking throughout the house at all the rooms. There were several game rooms, a pool table in one, various old video games in another, and a small theater with a large screen and several seats. There had been multiple bedrooms built as well, more than Scott would have imagined. He knew there were rooms for each of his brothers, he could tell whose was whose just by the decor, and his father. Kyrano had planned to move there as well, and there was a room for him too. Scott had suspected that his father had planned to move their grandma to the island, and found a room he suspected as bing hers. But he also found three more bedrooms. One looked like a girl's room, and realized that Tin-Tin would have had a room as well when she would have visited her father. He figured the last two were for other guests, friends that came to visit. One of the two remaining rooms had a science theme to it. Scott walked in and looked around the room, opening the doors, even though he knew it was a closet and bathroom.

As far as he could tell the house had been done and ready to move in. Even the electricity was still working perfectly. But, what were those big crates outside for then? What else was there to do, that had caused his father to delay his move there for another year. He was about to leave when he caught sight of a line reaching from the ceiling to the floor in the science themed spare room. A crack in the wall wouldn't be too surprising in an abandoned house, only this was a perfectly straight line. He walked up to the wall and put his hands on it. The wall suddenly hissed and moved out of sight. He walked through the opening and lights flickered on revealing a gray room filled with complex machinery. Not the kind from a factory, but a laboratory. This wasn't an extension of the science theme, this was a fully functioning lab. There were not, however, chemicals laying around forgotten, or experiments half done. No one had had a chance to use the space, it lay perfect and pristine, if not a bit dusty. Off to one side there was a row of dark windows above the counter space. Scott walked over to see if they had just been tinted to keep the light from effecting experiments, but found nothing but darkness on the other side. Then he realized something, the windows in the bedroom faced outside, these were facing into the mountain, and the lab wasn't near big enough to extend to the other side of the mountain.

Scott frowned and looked around the room. There was another door across from the windows and he walked to it and it opened at his presence. He stepped into the hall as lights flickered on exposing bland gray metal walls. He could see sunlight at one ned of the hall, and figured it led back to the house. The other end was dark past where the lights had turned on and he turned and walked into the darkness.

As he walked, lights turned on, as if they were following him. It spooked him a little, could someone had found the island and claimed it for themselves. He had the deed with him, but that wouldn't have stopped some people. The hall was long and seemed to be going down deeper into the mountain. There were rooms every so often off to the side, and he peeked into them as he went. There was an infirmary, smart since they were so far from any other land mass. Then there was storage, supply, repair, and utility rooms as well. When he had found the door that led to the houses energy supply he gapped as the large machine encased in it. This thing would produce more energy than any one person needed in a life time. More than this house with every room filled would need for a life time. Why had his father thought to install such a machine here? Scott shook his head and closed the door. He had the feeling he was about to discover something more more than he had ever expected. He finally reached the end of the hall and a door. The door had a small window, reinforced with wire, and a warning to stay clear during launch.

…

LAUNCH?

Scott gapped at the sign and read it again multiple times. What in the world was his father up to? The door was locked, but there was a keypad next to it. They had found, as they went through his things, that he tended to use the same pin number numerous times. Scott tried it and the door opened with a hiss and lights far up in the ceiling flickered to life, followed by more along the walls and all over the large cavern he had just walked into. He grabbed the railing along the walkway that sat high along the cavern wall. Below him he could see three large ships partially completed. On the floor, there was a behemoth of a machine that took up most of the space in which it sat. Part of it was still a skeleton but other parts had metal plates bolted to it, it looked like a plane, a very fat plane. He tore his eyes to another machine nearby. It was smaller, and leaner than the first. It looked like a rocket, standing on its end pointing up. He could see into this machine at the thrusters that had not been fully attached and gazed upon complicated machinery, much of which he had never seen before. Nearby in an almost separate silo was a much larger rocket. So large that he could barely see the top of it. It looked done, most of it had already been painted a bright red.

Scott had moved as he looked over the machines below him. He noticed a fourth one on the floor, it had been almost hidden by the behemoth. Small and unassuming he had no idea what it's purpose could have been. Scott stood there looking at his father's work unable to comprehend or even articulate the shock and confusion he was feeling. The first thought that had crossed his mind was that his father hadn't disappointed him. This was not going to be a boring vacation.


	4. Top Secret-Thunderbirds

Chapter 4: Top Secret/Thunderbirds

Scott made his way back up the gray metal hall and emerged into the lounge at the front of the house. He went straight for the large desk and sat down behind it. There was a small radio, and a picture frame that had fallen down at some point. He picked it up and couldn't help but let a small smile out. It was the same picture that now sat on his desk back at the base. He set it up and started rummaging through his father's desk. There wasn't much in most of the drawers, just blank paper, pens, pencils, notes and letters from friends. He did find a folder that some of the executives at Tracy Industries had been looking for just after Jeff's death, but Scott figured that they didn't need it anymore so he tossed it back into the drawer.

He sat back and stared at the desk, there had been nothing in it, yet he was sure this is where he would have kept anything that pertained to those machines in the hanger, factory? He frowned and sat forward dusting off the top of the desk. This house was high tech, so, there was no way this was just a desk. He had looked over the desk and had just about given up when he happened to see a small square on the edge. Scott laid his finger upon it trying to push it down, but instead it read his finger print. A screen was projected up before him, a copy of his own finger print displayed and his hame below it followed by the words access granted. The screen grew black with bold red words displayed across it, 'Top Secret'. He reached up and tapped the screen, the black went away and a series of icons appeared, each one labeled. His eye caught one icon and he reached up to touch it, it was labeled 'Thunderbirds'. The screen disappeared as a series of images popped up in its place. Scott's eyes widened and he couldn't help but drop his jaw. The first picture in the stack was of the smaller rocket, labeled Thunderbird One. It was a high speed scout ship, he looking through the technical aspects listed, it was the fastest thing known then and now. How had his father discovered this technology, and why had he kept it such a secret? The schematics included a small color sketch and Scott scanned it carefully, but decided that it wasn't one of Virgil's. The sketch did catch his eye though, it was a sleek craft, silver with hints of blue and red. His fingers itched to be behind the stick trying it out.

Scott shook his head and flipped to the next picture. This was the behemoth that took up most of the hanger, for he was sure, now, that was what the area was. Thunderbird 2 was a carrier craft, huge and powerful. Not as fast as the first aircraft, but amazing in its own right. The next picture was of the space rocket, fast enough to make it into orbital space in just a half hour, fast enough to make it to the sun and back in less than a day. Why would his father need something of that caliber? Was he planning on leaving the earth entirely, but then why would he build the other machines if he where? The next picture was of a completely different size, small and compact, it was a mini sub. It was small and fast and could survive in the deepest of oceans. That must have been that last machine he had seen. There was one more picture and he flipped to it. This was a large structure, an orbital space station, with a large and complicated communications array. His dad had obviously wanted to be able to talk to someone no matter where they went, wether they were near the sun, or at the bottom of the ocean.

Scott went back to the icons and clicked another one, 'Personnel'. It popped up with more files, hundreds, but Scott was stuck on the first one. He had seen this person before. Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. She was aristocratic in appearance and name. Scott racked his brain, where had he seen her? Then it hit him, and old memory that he had pushed away at the time, it hadn't meant anything to him, but now something about it clicked. He had met her at his father's funeral. She had just been part of the line of mourners, walking by the brothers to offer their condolences. Most of the people shared their sorrow, or offered a quick antidote about their father. But she, she had asked the most peculiar questions. He thought hard, she had asked if he had known about his retirement plans. His island, yeah, it's all he ever talked about. No, she said he had other plans, and wanted to know if they knew about them. Scott could only look at her in confusion and she sighed and smiled, offering her condolences and then walked on. Had she been talking about this? Scott looked through the file carefully, but there was no contact information. He touched the picture, hoping to enlarge it, but instead the screen shrunk. He leaned back wondering what he had hit, when a hologram appeared on the center table in the sunken living area.

"Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, at your service," The woman who had appeared announced. Scott leaned forward to observe the image, thinking it just that, and image. "Ah, you must be Scott," She smiled up at him, "You look just like your father, you know."

"Wha…" Scott gapped as he suddenly realized he had actually called her, "Um, yes. Sorry to have bothered you. I didn't realize that I was calling…"

"No worries, I've been waiting or this call for quite some time."

"You have?"

"Do you not remember me? We met at your father's funeral."

"No, yes… I mean, I do remember," Scott frowned.

"I see you're on the island, I take it you found the birds?"

"The birds? The planes and rockets you mean?"

"Yes, your father called them the Thunderbirds. After a native american legendary animal. An animal that thundered across the sky, much like these machines would have."

"You knew about it, why didn't you tell us," Scott demanded standing up from the desk to glare down at her.

"It wasn't my place. I had hoped that Jeff had told you, but obviously he hadn't. He was waiting for the right time," Penelope sighed, "When you said that you didn't know about any other retirement plans, I was afraid to tell you what they were. You were all grieving quite hard, for good reason of course. I had hoped that you all would arrive here, find the birds and give me a call. Of course, I didn't think it would happen eight years later."

"Alright then, tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"What is all this? I found the schematics, and the personal files, but what is it all for?"

"Ah, you haven't looked at the main file yet," Lady Penelope thought for a moment before she continued, "I encourage you to read it, your father's words are much more powerful than my own, but I'll give you the summery if you'd like."

"Yes, I would very much appreciate it."

"From the time that your mother died," She paused to give him a chance to take in her words, "Your father wondered if there was any way to improve the chances of victims of accidents. Accidents like your mother's where the rescuers were to late, or didn't have strong enough machines to save them in time. He came up with this idea when you.. well, when we were still quite young. He'd been working on it for some time, though it had only started to really come together a few years before his death.

"He wanted to create an organization that would be available anywhere, anytime, and for anyone. An organization that would have the tools and equipment to save anyone from danger. He had decided to call the organization International Rescue."

"These machines are meant to rescue people?"

"Yes, anyone that needs them, International Rescue would be there to help."

"But how? How would he do that?"

"You saw all the schematics, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Thunderbird 5 would scan all frequencies and transfer possible rescues down to the island. Your father would then finalize the requirements needed, and send out Thunderbirds 1-4 as needed."

"Who would man these machines?" Scott asked trying to wrap his mind around the idea.

"Really, Scott, has it not occurred to you yet?"

"What?"

"Look at the schematics again. What does it say in the space for the pilots name?"

"They're just letters. S, V, A, G, and J."

"And do you not know anyone who would love to pilot this wonderful machines?"

"Well, I would love to get behind One, and I bet Gordon would have liked Four…." The idea suddenly popped into his head, it had been there the whole time, he had already commented how awesome piloting these would be, "He meant them for us. He designed and built these machines for us."

"Yes, he was hoping his five sons would help him with his plans."

"Then why didn't he tell us?" Scott yelled slamming his hands down on the desk.

"He was going to. I think he wanted to finish the birds a bit more before showing them to you."

"But we've wasted so much time!" Scott exclaimed the words just flying from his mouth.

"Have we?" Lady Penelope asked her eyebrows raised. Scott stopped and thought back to what he had just said. Had he wasted his time? Now that he knew about his father's true retirement plans, would he have dropped everything and joined him? Or was his career in the Air Force more important?

"What does it matter now? Everything has been sitting for eight years. His dream is a pile of junk now. We don't even have all of the pilots anymore."

"You are all still alive, unless I missed some news. I'm usually pretty good at keeping track of people."

"What was your position in this origination? Not a pilot, or mechanic, surely."

"No, I was to be a secret agent. It would be my job to gather information, and pass on what I knew to your father. I was also going to be in charge of organizing all the other agents all over the world."

"What kind of information?"

"Anything to do with a rescue, or if there were suspicions of people trying to find out more about the organization I was to nip it in the butt, as Jeff used to say. He wanted to keep everything secret, because he knew how high tech his machines were, he didn't want them falling into the wrong hands."

"But I still have only partially put together equipment, and like I said, we don't have all the pilots anymore."

"And I said they are all still alive."

"I'm glad to hear that, but how do you know? I've been looking for Virgil and Gordon for the past seven years."

"It is my job to keep track of people. You five were very important to your father, so I thought I would keep an eye out, make sure you were doing okay."

"Then why didn't you do anything when Virgil and Gordon disappeared?"

"They are both smart boys and covered their tracks well. It took me three years to find them again. Even my current information is at least two years old."

"Ha!" Scott suddenly sat down and leaned back in the chair laughing, "I just heard how we were talking, like we could actually get this organization going."

"Why can't you," Penelope asked, "Or is it you don't want to?"

"I… I don't know," Scott replied honestly, "I'm not even sure what it would take to get everything back together. Half the parts have probably been sitting on the pool deck for the past eight years. Then there are the pilots. Virgil and Gordon made it very clear that they didn't want anything to do with us. Even if I had found them, I'm not sure I would have went to see them."

"It is quite the decision to make. Especially with the careers you all have now," Penelope nodded, "Tell you what, I will send you the current contact information of a Hiram K Hackenbacker. He is the mastermind behind the machines. He'll be able to tell you what you want to know."

"Hiram K Hackenbacker? Isn't he the one that created the engines for the Fireflash some years ago?"

"Yes, that is him. He was quite upset at the results of it's maiden voyage, the entire crew and all passengers lost," Lady Penelope frowned, "All because of some terrorist wanting the technology. Brains has refused to release any of his inventions to the public since then."

"Brains?"

"That's what Jeff called him, and well, it kind of stuck," Penelope smiled at the memory.

"Alright, do you think he'll talk to me though?"

"As soon as he hears that one of Jeff's sons wants to talk, he'll clear his schedule, I promise."

"Thank you Lady Penelope, for everything."

"Just call me Penny, your father did," She smiled and then disappeared. A moment later, a message arrived on the computer in front of Scott, it was an address in Massachusetts. It seemed that this Brains, was a lecturer at MIT."

Scott had planned to stay on the island for the entirety of his two week vacation, but now he found himself getting in his plane and taking off back to the mainland. Once in LA he switched to his faster jet, and made his way to Massachusetts. He didn't think to call ahead until he was at the entrance to the building in which Mr. Hackenbacker's office was in. He had put on his uniform, hoping to make a good impression and made his way up the stairs and too the Engineering department.

"Good Morning, how may I help you," The secretary asked as Scott walked in, her eyes scanning him from top to bottom as a small smile blossomed on her face.

"I'd like to meet with Mr. Hackenbacker."

"Dr. Hackenbacker is quiet busy. You'll have to make an appointment so see him," She instructed.

"Well, I'm in a bit of a rush, could you at least tell him I'm here, and let him decide? The name is Scott Tracy," Scott asked hoping that Penny's advice was sound. The secretary mused for a moment and then shrugged, he wasn't a mean man by any stretch of the imagination so even if he got cross at her he would apologize later. She stood and gestured for Scott to wait where he was before disappearing down a hall. She was gone for only a moment, and when she reappeared had a surprised expression on her face.

"He has cleared his schedule for you," She replied looking him up and down again, "He seemed quite surprised when I told him your name."

"I imagine he had quite given up hearing it," Scott grimaced as he followed her down the hall and into a small office. The man behind the desk was trying to clear it of random papers and essays that he had been trying to grade when Scott had entered. He was young, maybe about his own age, and a lecturer at MIT to boot. Scott was impressed. But then he had already seen the schematics and knew whoever had created them was something else. The man stood up, hitting his knee on the desk, and pushed his large blue glasses up his nose.

"G…good M…morning," he stuttered holding out his hand. Scott shook it as he heard the door close behind him, "P…Please, s…sit." Scott looked around and found a chair with a pile of papers on top. He carefully set them on the floor and sat down. The man had sat back down in his own chair and was watching him carefully. "I…I'm sorry about m…my s…s…stutter, I'm a b…bit n…nervous."

"I'm the one who should be nervous," Scott smiled warmly at him, he seemed the shy sort, and wanted to make him more comfortable, "I saw the Thunderbirds, or at least what there was of them, and the schematics. I'm quite impressed."

"You've been to the island," He asked jumping to his feet, his stutter quite gone, "How have they faired, is the house still in good shape?"

"I didn't actually go down and inspect them, and the house is in perfect order, just needs a bit of cleaning," Scott couldn't help but smile. He understood the pride and protectiveness of one's machines.

"H…How did you know where to find me?" He asked sitting down again his mind jumping a little.

"I talked to Lady Penelope."

"Ah, of course," Brains smiled, "And I a..assume she told you about your father's p…plans?"

"Yes, and as silly as it may sound, I'm curious as to what may need to be done to complete them."

"It's not s…silly," Brains defended his creations, "Your father was adamant about making this a r…reality."

"I've come to realize this, I just wish I had known then," Scott frowned, "I think the biggest hurdle will be with my brothers."

"Y..yes, Penny did mention that you had a falling out with two of them."

"And another is always busy," Scott nodded, "And then there is the question of money. I can't even begin to imagine how much my father had invested in this plan of his. I don't have near that amount, even though I've hardly touched my inheritance."

"The money came from his company. There was a secret department called Experimental Technology," Brains smiled, "In other words, the organization was subsidized by Tracy Industries."

"But the company has gone public. My brother's and I hold quid a bit of the stock, but not enough to gain back control."

"Actually you do," Brains smiled, "As soon as the company went public, Lady Penelope and I bought as much as we could. Knowing that if you boys did want to finish you would need the company again."

"But we would need all five of my brothers support," Scott guessed frowning.

"Yes, that would be a requirement. Even Jeff mentioned that he couldn't imagine doing this without his sons. It had never occurred to him that any of you might say no," Brains leaned forward, "That was his faith that you all would understand what he was trying to do."

"I think I do understand, but what do I do now," Scott asked running a hand through his hair much like his father used to, "I need to convince all of my brother's to drop their lives and join me in order to get the company back, yet I'm sure some of them will be hesitant to do so not knowing if the other's will comply."

"I will go to the island this weekend and make an inventory of what is there. I'll be a…able to give you a number and a timeline after that."

"I don't want you to drop everything for something that may not happen," Scott frowned.

"I did it once before for Jeff. I'd be m…more than happy to do it again for his sons," Brains replied standing up. He walked around the desk and stood before Scott holding out his hand. Scott stood up and took it, smiling.

"I suppose a step in any direction is better than none," He commented as he dust himself off and made to leave.

"I s…suggest you go to your two brothers that you still have contact with. If you can get t…them on board, the other two may be easier." Scott nodded in agreement and then left.

He pulled out his phone as he exited the building into the bright noon light. He knew which brother he would talk to first. The one he knew would jump at the opportunity, regardless of what it entailed, for even after this many years, the boy idolized his oldest brother. Scott brought up his calendar, Alan sent him updates almost every week about where he would be and what races he was entering. It looked that this week, he was in Talladega, Alabama.

Scott had called as soon as he had returned to his hotel room. He didn't call Alan though, the race was in two days and didn't want to take his concentration away from his practicing. Instead he called Terry, Alan's team manager. Terry hadn't answered his phone right away, so Scott left a message and waited. He didn't have to wait long, about twenty minutes later, his phone rang and Terry was on the other line.

"Scott Tracy," Scott announced as he answers the phone.

"Scott… er.. Major Tracy," Terry amended trying to sound respectful to Alan's beloved brother.

"Just call me Scott," Scott laughed.

"What's going on, nothing serious I hope. I know you said not to tell Alan you called," Terry sounded a bit worried.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to surprise Alan. I have a few days off and thought I'd swing by the race to see him."

"Oh man, he will be super pumped to see you," Terry exclaimed, "When are you wanting to come? Do you want him to know before the race?"

"Well, I'm not sure. Do you think he'd be able to race properly with me there? I mean would I distract him or anything," Scott asked truly worried, "Last thing I want is to have him try and show off and get himself killed."

"Yes, he probably would do that," Terry mused on the other line, "I know. I'll get you a pass into the team's observation box. You'll be able to meet one of the other drivers and some of the other's associated with the team. I'll come up and say hi too. You can listen in to the radio conversations between Alan and the crew during the race and everything, and then you can come and say hi to Alan afterwards."

"I think that sounds like a plan," Scott agreed, "When would be a good time to show up?"

"The race is scheduled to start at nine o'clock weather permitting, of course."

"Right, then I best make my way down there tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll have your pass waiting for you at Ticket Booth D. It's the main one so it may be a bit crazy, but it's the closest to the elevators that'll take you to the box."

"Alright, Ticket Booth D, it is," Scott couldn't help but smile. His brother was going to be so excited to see him.

Scott stayed in that night, he had wanted to download the plans for the Thunderbirds and bring them with him, but the computer wouldn't allow it. However, he didn't feel like going out and enjoying the collage town or even going out to eat. He ordered room service and decided instead to bring up as much information about Tracy Industries as could be found publicly. He hadn't stayed up to date with the company too much since it had went public. Unlike his father, he wasn't too interested in business. Interestingly none of his brothers seemed to have picked up that trait from their father. Scott stopped for a moment and thought about it, no, maybe Alan did. He was running a rather successful racing business at the moment, wasn't he? Scott went back to the numbers on his screen, Tracy Industries had maintained a profit the entire time it had been public. Some times even outdoing the previous years margins. Yes, they had left the company in good hands. Now, he was thinking of taking the company back. Would they be able to do just as good of a job? Or would there be a way to be in control, but keep the current operators, something where nothing would actually change, just some of the flow of the money.

There was one thing still nagging at Scott though. Even if all five brothers were on board, and that was a big if to begin with, and they were able to gain control of the company, how long would it take to get the funds needed to get the organization up and running? Scott still had most of his inheritance, but he was sure Alan had spent most of his getting the racing career up and going. He doubted John had touched his, and he knew a good portion of Gordon's had gone to medical bills after his accident. He had no idea about Virgil though, he may have gotten rid of it all or it could still be sitting in his account untouched. Either way, he imagined the amount of money needed was astronomical.

He sat there for several hours pouring over the numbers at Tracy Industries, trying to figure out how he could nip a bit here and a bit there to be able to fund his father's dream. Brains, Dr. Hackenbacker…. he wasn't sure what to call the man now, had said that his father had instituted a secret department that funded the organization. Scott wondered if that department still existed. There was no way he would find out on the public domain, and he thought it was a little risky to go logging in to private files after eight years of not caring. He shut the computer down and laid down on the bed his mind still reeling. Was he really thinking of doing this? Creating the rescue organization that his father had dreamed of? He still wasn't sure of his own feeling on the matter as he dozed off still fully dressed in uniform.

He woke late the next morning not realizing just how tired he had been. He honestly hadn't slept much the past few days, his mind buzzing with all the information he had collected. He got up and took a quick shower changing into more comfortable clothes. He realized suddenly that he had not thought to book a room in for the next few nights in Alabama. With the race being so close he assumed that all the rooms would be taken. He made his way down to the lobby with his things to check out and stopped by the concierge desk. He inquired about hotels within in the area of the race and the man frowned. However, the concierge was on the phone as soon as he had seen just who the guest was, even eight years after Jeff Tracy's death, the name still held some power. Within twenty minutes Scott had a room just down the street from the race track. It wouldn't be a large room, but it had a bed and Scott was thankful for that.


	5. Alan

Chapter Five: Alan

When he arrived he found out that down that street was a half hour drive down an interstate. He knew this because he flew into Talladega Municipal Airport, which was right next to the race track. There were luckily busses that did nothing but ferry the race enthusiasts to and from the local towns surrounding the area. He grabbed the bus for Oxford and made it to his hotel near evening. He followed the desk clerk down the hall as he continued to apologize.

"I'm so sorry we can't give you anything else, but the rooms have been sold out for some time."

"Yes, I'm sure," Scott rolled his eyes, "this was a last minute trip on my part. I'm just thankful there is a bed… there is a bed right?"

"Well, it's a cot to be honest. We don't normally use this room, but since it is for a loyal customer…" They had arrived at the room, on the first floor at the very end of the hall. The clerk opened the door and stepped back. It was indeed a very small room, almost as big as the janitor's closet that hung open across the hall. It looked as if it had once held employees during night shifts if they needed a quick was a small cot in one corner, and a sink on the other wall. There was no TV, and he was told the public toilet was down the hall.

"Again, I am terribly sorry," The clear apologized and then looked as if he was hesitant to say something. Scott sighed and raised his eyebrow in encouragement, "Well, I was just wondering, your last name was Tracy. Any relation to Alan Tracy?" Scott smiled a little. He could remember Alan complaining as he went through school how he was always referred to as Scott's brother, or Virgil's brother, or John's brother, or Gordon's brother and never as himself.

"No, not that I'm aware of," Scott lied. He didn't mind being seen as Alan's brother, but he felt as if he wanted to keep his identity a bit of a secret for the moment. He had heard people talk of his brother on the bus to the city and in the lobby and didn't want to steal that attention from him.

The clerk apologized again and promised that as soon as a room opened he would be moved immediately. Scott waved him away, glad to be away from his ramblings. He was happy he found something somewhat close, even if the sink did drip loudly.

Scott found his way to the lobby, choosing to hang out there, rather than in his closet of a room. He opened his computer, but instead of looking at Tracy Industries information he turned to his brother's racing team. If he was going to be watching a race, he might as well learn more about it.

Scott had been to some of Alan's races when he was younger, but they weren't near as popular or complicated. He looked through the history of Team Tracy; it was founded six years ago using Alan's inheritance, just as Scott had assumed. It started with just two racers and a handful of staff, and now, it consisted of four racers and twice as many staff members. No, it wasn't growing horribly fast, but apparently Alan was quite picky about who he asked to join the team. It was, however, a very successful team. They raced in both Nascar and Indy car races, though apparently one of the drivers stuck to Indy car races only. Out of the last ten races, the team claimed first place in six of them. More specifically, Alan claimed first place in six of them. Three of the other four he got second and third, and did not compete in the fourth. Though one of the other team members won it. In those races that Alan won, his teammates came in close staying within the top ten. There was some more information about points and and other things that Scott didn't quite understand, but he knew that the first one to finish was the winner of that particular race so at least that much he could cheer his brother on for.

Scott ate dinner at the cafe in the hotel, as he watched old footage of his brother racing. He really had gotten better over the years, though he still wanted to take his turns too tight, Scott thought. He was back in the lobby, watching some footage of that day's practices when a large crowd poured through the door into the hotel. Scott stood to keep clear of the mob and walked over to the front desk.

"What's going on there," he asked as the staff gathered to watch as well.

"Oh, it's one of the drivers coming in for the night. His fans found out he was staying here, though he always stays at one of our hotels, and they always make a fuss over him."

"Which racer is it," Scott asked, curious as to who was this popular.

"Alan Tracy of course," the desk clerk smiled. Scott frowned, the last thing he wanted was for Alan to get a glimpse of him now. He quickly moved behind a large display case that sat in the middle of the lobby, taking pains to act normal as he saw the familiar blond head and bright smile enter the hotel and head for the elevators on the far side. Scott was peeking around the side of the display case when he met eyes with Terry, who winked and moved along without interrupting the flow of the crowd. Once the celebrities had disappeared up the elevator the crowd sighed in disappointment and dispersed. Scott made his way back to the desk.

"Why does he stay here? I thought most of the drivers stayed in touring busses and the like at the track."

"He usually does, but the night before the race he likes a nice big room, says it helps him relax better."

"What time does he usually leave?"

"For race day, he's out of here by five."

"Good," Scott murmured and then headed to his own room for the night. It wasn't a very restful night. The dripping faucet was annoying and there was a bar in the cot that hit him right on the hip. He was just about to consider sleeping on the floor when he looked down and saw the sheen of water under the sink. Right, the bed would have to do. He scooted down and tried to get comfortable.

He woke up early that morning, wondering if he had ever actually slept, but the sun was out and shining right in his eyes through the curtain-less window. He packed his things and took them to the front desk, he was not going to stay in that room again.

If he had to he would sleep in his told them about the leaky drain and the puddle on the floor, and then left the hotel, looking at his watch as he did. It was seven-thirty. He had plenty of time, but figured he best get to where he was going so he wouldn't be late. He found one of the busses crowded with passengers, his suitcase an unwelcome addition to the crowd and rode it standing all the way to the track.

He was pushed off of the bus rather than disembarking on his own, and was easily caught up in the crowed. He tried looking for Ticket Counter D, but found himself getting taken along to another side of the track. He had finally made his way back to the right ticket counter when he saw someone waving their arms in the air. Scott frowned and tried to block some of the sun so he could see who it was, for they were very assuredly calling his name.

"SCOTT!" Terry called as he continued to wave his arms. Scott made his way through the crowd and was pulled into an empty corner by his brother's manager. "Told you it would be crazy didn't I?"

"You said crazy, this is mayhem," Scott yelled over the loud rumble of the crowd.

"Come on, I was just dropping your pass off, but now I don't have to cause you're here," Terry laughed as he took Scott's suitcase and replaced it with a keycard pass. "This will get you in the elevators and the room, incase you decide to walk around during the race." Scott followed as Terry took off toward a bank of elevators waving his own keycard over the the slick black surface of the lock. The doors slid open and they both stepped onboard. The doors slid closed again and the there was sudden silence.

"I think I may have damaged my hearing," Scott shook his head speaking a little louder than was necessary.

"Yeah, after coming to a few you start to learn a few tricks," Terry smiled as he pulled out a pair of earplugs, "Here we are." The elevator had stopped and the doors opened. The hall before them was a sharp contrast to the open seating below them. There was carpet along the floor and the walls were decorated with memorabilia from the track's history. Scott followed Terry down the hall to one of the last boxes. "We're still a small team, once we grow a bit more we'll be able to snag a better view." Scott walked in and was awed by the view they had. No it wasn't in the center, it was closer to the first turn, but you could see the entire track from up there. There was a small lobby like area where a few people were mingling and talking and then there were a couple rows of seats farther down.

Terry stashed Scott's suitcase in a corner and then grabbed a couple of people from their conversations and hulled them over to where Scott stood, "Scott, I'd like to introduce you to a couple of people. This is Jim Sturges, the Crew Chief. He's usually down in the garage managing everything there."

"I came up here looking for you, Terry. Alan wanted to ask you something," Jim frowned paying more attention to Terry than Scott.

"Jim, this is Scott. Alan's older brother," Terry announced loudly so the whole room could hear him.

"Wait, you mean Major Air Force Test Pilot Scott," Jim lifted his eye brows in shock, "Does Alan know your here?"

"No, and please keep it a secret. I want to surprise him after the race," Scott smiled.

"Good idea, don't need him trying to show off for ya," Jim smiled shaking Scott's hand.

"Scott, this is the newest driver in the team, Trixi Rand."

"I know a Rand," Scott smiled as he shook her hand. She was probably about the same age as Alan, or maybe a year or two older.

"If he's also a test pilot in the Air Force then it's probably my brother," She smiled.

"Wait, Paul is your brother? He never told me he had a sister that raced. Actually I don't think he ever told me he had a sister!"

"Well, it's not something my parents are proud of. They wanted me to join the military like the rest of the family."

"I see. Do you mind if I mention it to Paul. He's actually under my command at the moment."

"I don't care, maybe you can knock some sense into him," She smiled and Scott wondered if it was just her skill that had landed her the place on the team.

"I better get back down to the garage," Jim announced as he turned to leave, "Enjoy the race Scott. Terry, you better head back too or else Alan may come up here looking."

"Right, I'll just come down with you," Terry nodded, "Make yourself at home Scott, if you have any questions just ask, Trixi will be happy to answer them for you.

"Thanks, Terry," Scott waved as the two disappeared behind the door.

"You okay Major?" Trixi asked leaning over to look up at Scott.

"You don't have to call me Major," Scott smiled as he yawned.

"Sorry, habit. You look tired though."

"Yeah, just didn't get a good nights sleep last night."

"Where did you stay?"

"Same hotel as you lot. I saw you come in last night," Scott smiled, "Had to do some quick hiding so Alan wouldn't see."

"Hmm… their rooms are usually pretty comfortable… unless you got room 113," She laughed and then her face fell in horror at Scott's reaction. "Holy cow, you were in room 113!" Everyone turned to face him, similar looks of horror mixed with amusement.

"How do you know about that room?"

"I haven't seen it myself, but I've heard about it. Alan apparently was put there the night before his first race here. Worst night ever, placed poorly too."

"I can believe that," Scott chucked.

"Tell you what," Trixi announced as she pulled Scott over to a small couch that sat along one wall. You can sit here, rest your head on your arm and doze a bit. We'll keep it down and you can nap a little before the race starts."

"Trixi, that sounds like an absolutely wonderful idea," Scott yawned again as he sat down and got himself a little comfortable. The rest of the group in the room kept to the other side and quieted their conversation down as Scott quickly dozed off.

"Major!" Scott jumped to his feet at attention, but took a moment before he had actually woken up. When he did the people around him were laughing their heads off. Scott slumped back down into his seat suddenly remembering where he was. "Sorry, Scott, I used to do that to Paul all the time. Still super funny!" She continued to laugh but was trying to reign it in.

"Yeah, Gordon used to do it to me as well," Scott smiled back.

"Who's Gordon?" Trixi asked sitting down next to him and offering him some coffee.

"Just one of our brothers," Scott waved it off but Trixi was looking at him confused.

"I thought your other brother's name was John. An astronaut isn't he?"

"Yeah, John's the astronaut, Gordon's a different brother."

"Wait, I thought it was just you Alan and John."

"No," Scott sighed realization hit him as to just how much Alan had pushed his other brothers out of his head and heart, "There are five of us. Gordon and Virgil disappeared several years ago. We haven't heard from them since."

"Oh," Trixi frowned, "I probably shouldn't bring them up then."

"Probably not," Scott confirmed, even though he was going to when he had a chance to get Alan alone.

"Anyways," Trixi stood and pulled Scott to his feet dragging him down to the front row right in front of the windows. "The race is about to start. Alan is in pole position, there, car number 5." Scott leaned forward and could see the red car with the white number 5 on the hood. There were many other labels on the car, his sponsors he assumed. "Car 7 is just a few cars behind him, that's Jonah, and then car 3 is a ways down. Dave didn't have a good qualifying time the other day." Scott followed her finger and found the cars as they started their pace lap.

"How long does the race last?"

"Somewhere around three hours. 188 laps," Trixi smiled and then turned, "Someone turn on the radio." There was a bit of static and then Scott couldn't help but smile.

'Hey, Jim, did you fix the strut issue I told you about in Dave's car?' It was Alan's voice.

'Yeah, replaced it last night, tested it this morning,' Jim replied.

'How's it handling Dave?'

'So far so good, hopefully I can get past the slow pokes and catch up to you guys in a bit.'

'Alright you three, get ready, and Alan, watch those turns,' Terry cut in.

'I can handle it,' Scott could hear the smirk in Alan's voice.

The cars made their way around the track and as Alan's and the other cars in the front crossed the starting line a man in the stands waved a green flag. The cars were off, Alan pulling off into the lead. It was a different experience being at the race than watching it on TV. Though to be honest, Scott usually muted the sound and just watched for his brother's name. Being in the box, he could hear everything that went on between his brother and the other drivers and the pit as well as Jim and Terry. There was quite a bit going on that Scott didn't understand though, stuff about tires and possible engine trouble. Alan had to go into the pits early because of an unknown shaking issue. They found the trouble quickly and he was out again, though a couple laps behind now. Trixi was a wealth of information explaining the implications of certain things to him as they were talked about.

Scott was impressed by Alan though. His thick headed little brother was truly a team player, and leader. He was always checking in with the other drivers, offering his advice along with Terry and Jim. The radio was rarely silent as they chatted with spotters that helped them with their blind spots, and Alan would warn his team mates about things he could see the they couldn't as he came up behind them to catch up. This team acted like a well oiled machine, and Scott couldn't help but feel guilty. The whole purpose of this trip was possibly to break this all up.

Scott stood, sat, walked around and talked to some of the others during some of the more boring parts of the race. Trixi introduced him to some of the other's that occupied the room. They were some of the sponsors of the team, there to support them and make sure they were good representatives of the brands. Scott was talking to one of the sponsors when Alan's voice was suddenly screaming over the radio.

'Jonah! Jonah! Can you hear me!' His voice was joined by Jim, Terry, and Dave's. Scott and the others in the room rushed to the window to see what had happened. An accident had occurred on turn 4. Trixi had a tablet in her hand pulling up footage. Scott leaned over and watched the crash in slow motion. In the curve number 23 seemed to just barely nudge number 57's bumper, but it was enough to cause 57 to go into a spin taking out nearby cars, Jonah's being one of them. Scott looked down at the track worry on his face. Where was Alan, there, he found him in the midst of the other cars as they were ferried around the track by the pace car as a yellow flag was being waved from the stands. Ambulances and tow trucks were racing to the scene of the accident.

'Everyone quiet,' Alan's voice silenced the chorus of concerned voices, "Jonah, answer me.'

'I'm… okay, I think…' came a weak voice over the radio.

'can you get out?'

'yeah, there's people at my window now,' Jonah's voice was a little stronger now and they could hear people asking him questions.

'Alan, Terry's talking to the medics now,' Jim informed the worried driver, 'looks like he's going to be okay, maybe a small concussion but otherwise, walking away.'

'Alan,' it was Jonah again, 'Sorry, no one two finish for us.'

'Nah, that's alright. Dave's just going to have to work harder to get up the pack,' Alan replied.

'You can count on me,' came Dave's reply.

The cars made several slow laps as the damaged cars were towed away and the track cleaned up. Finally the green flag was waved again and the cars took off. Scott looked down at his watch, it had only been an hour and half, they weren't even to a hundred laps yet. Scott sat after that and watched as the number 5 car weaved in and out around the track. He slowly made his way up front, battling it out with two or three other cars for the lead.

They were on lap 134 when another major crash occurred. One of the slower cars that the leaders had caught up with suddenly flipped his car right in front of them. Scott was leaning forward, almost wanting to put his face against the glass if it could help him see better. It was on the far side of the track, turn three, and there was fire and smoke billowing up.

"There's Alan!" Trixi yelled next to him, and there pulling out of the smoke safely was car number 5.

'That was a close one,' Alan's voice announced over the radio, 'Dave, take the turn high, I think all the damage was at the bottom of the turn.'

'Affirmative,' came Dave's reply. The cars behind them and all been told similar as they edge their way around the accident. Alan was now in second place as the pace car came out and the caution flag was waved.

'Any news on the drivers,' Alan asked.

'Not yet. Doesn't look good though,' Terry replied.

'It was a newbie that flipped, not sure which team off hand," Jim added.

'I think it was Shawn Phillips that hit him,' Alan added a frown in his voice. Scott could feel Trixi grab his arm and squeeze tightly.

'Bad news,' Terry was back, 'You're right Alan, it was Shawn and he didn't make it.'

'Damn!' Alan yelled.

'The race isn't over yet. Keep your head clear, you can mourn him later,' Terry ordered. There was no reply from Alan, but no one seemed to want to force him either.

"Did you know him well?" Scott asked looking over at Trixi who was slumped down in her chair crying.

"Yeah. He would always take us out for victory celebrations, regardless of who won," She sniffed.

"More than that," one of the sponsors leaned forward to look at Scott, "Shawn was the one that took Alan in when he decided to go pro, before Alan decided to start his own team."

"Damn," Scott murmured. He paid even more attention to the number five car now. Alan was surly feeling horrible, and he was afraid he may make a fatal mistake himself.

"Alan's good about pushing his feelings aside to deal with the here and now," Trixi whispered squeezing Scott's arm. Scott was reassured by this and relaxed a little. He still kept his eye on Alan's car as it zoomed around the track again.

Lap 150

Lap 172

Lap 180

Lap 184

Lap 186

The last two laps of the race. Alan had been fighting for the lead with one other driver, going back and forth, back and forth. There was a lot of radio chatter going on as well. Were his tires okay, did he need to fuel up. Alan refused, Terry even got on and tried to order him into the pits to fuel up, but Alan refused. He said he could make it.

Lap 188

Scott and the others in the box were on their feet as the cars came around the track for the last time. The other driver was in the lead, and as they pulled into turn 4 Alan took it tight, Terry in his ear yelling at him to stop taking risks. But it allowed him to get out in front. They were on the home stretch, just moments, and the checkered flag was down. The box was silent, it had been close, so close that at their angle they couldn't tell what had happened.

'Did I do it?' Alan was on the radio, 'Terry!'

'They're checking it out,' Terry replied. The cars were slowing down as they passed. The radio was silent, and then finally Terry was back, 'You did it!'

'YES!' Alan cheered, as well as everyone in the box. Trixi jumped up into Scott's arms and hugged him in excitement.

"Why's he just sitting there," Scott asked a huge smile on his face as he watched Alan's car just sit on the side of the track.

"He's run out of gas," Trixi laughed, "They'll have to tow him back to the pits." Scott could't help but laugh as well.

"How did Dave do?"

"Looks like fifth. Not bad considering how far back he started," She smiled.

"Great, when can we go see him?"

"He's still got to go to the winner's lane and do interviews and everything," Trixi explained, "It'll be awhile before we'll be able to make it down to the pits as well. So, make yourself comfortable."

Scott nodded, sat patiently, and waited. It was an agonizing wait, even though they had brought up the local coverage of the race on a TV in the room so they could see Alan in the winner's lane and the interviews he did. Alan was smiling brightly, his blue eyes shining. He had sat there for almost two hours when Trixi finally announced that they could start heading down. They made it down to ground level where some golf carts were waiting on them. They loaded them down and made their way to a tunnel that went under the track and though some camping grounds on the interior of the track through crowds of people and finally to their garage.

There was a group of people standing around the damaged number 7 car. Scott could pick out Alan's golden locks anywhere, though they were currently plastered to his head with sweat. He had his arm draped on the shoulders of a red haired driver to his right, another darker haired driver on his left. Scott couldn't help but have a flash of memory, of three of his brother's standing just like that at the ranch, but at a much younger age. He shook his head pushing the memory back into the depths from whence it came and then took in a lung full of air.

"ALAN!" Alan froze for a moment, dropping his arm and turning around. Scott felt like it was in slow motion. Alan's face was blank at first, and then as he suddenly recognized the man before him his eyes widened and his bright smile returned.

"SCOTT!" He ran to his brother tackling him in a hug. Scott was forced to take a step back to keep his balance.

"Congratulations. That was some race," Scott beamed down at the blond head… well it was no longer below him. Alan had grown some since they had last met and was now just a hair shorter than himself.

"You saw, you actually came to a race and watched," Alan asked shock clear on his face.

"I did. Trixi kept me company," Scott smiled.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because I didn't want you to get cocky and try to show off," Scott smiled and pulled him in for another hug.

"Yeah, I probably would have," Alan laughed. Alan did not leave Scott's side the rest of the day. He pulled him around showing him all over the garage and their cars and even made Scott get in and have a feel for it. He took him to his RV, and showed him where he slept and well lived for the most part. Scott was impressed, he lived in luxury. But they did not stay at the race track that night. Alan invited everyone up to his suite at the hotel for a celebration. Trixi told Alan where Scott had stayed the previous night and Alan rolled in laughter at the image of Scott trying to sleep in such a room. The party lasted into the night, and Scott was starting to get sleepy so he looked though the room for Alan, to see if there was a place he could crash, but couldn't find him. He found Terry though and asked about his brother. Terry looked around, also surprised that Alan had disappeared. However, he thought he knew where he may be.

Scott made his way to the bedroom Alan used and slowly opened the door. The room was dark, but he could see a lump on the bed. He closed the door and thought he had heard a sob, but all was quiet. He made his way over to the bed and sat down on the side laying his hand on Alan's shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Alan replied in a thick voice, evidence that he'd been crying.

"Is this about the driver that died? Trixi said you guys were close."

"He was my mentor," Alan explained as he pushed himself up to a sitting position, "He taught me about being a professional and even when I wanted to leave his team and start my own, he encouraged me and helped me along." Scott pulled him into a comforting hug as Alan started to cry again, "Why does everyone I care about have to leave? First Dad, then Virgil, Gordon, and now Shawn. Hell even John doesn't want to talk to me unless it's about going back to NASA."

"I know, life doesn't seem fair sometimes," Scott murmured into his hair, "But that is the risk with the type of life you lead. These races are dangerous and you put your life in jeopardy every time you get in that car, no matter how many safety measures you use. Any of you could be gone at any time." Scott clung to him tighter with those words, "Get some sleep Allie. We have some talking to do tomorrow."

"What kind of talking," Alan asked pulling away and looking at his brother, surprised at the use of his childhood nickname.

"Let's just say that I've had some ideas I want to throw at you," Scott smirked, "But I want you to be fully refreshed before I do."

"Right," Alan nodded as he pulled off his shirt and shorts pulling his covers up over his boxer clad body.

"Mind if I take the couch?" Scott asked.

"Sure, it pulls out," Alan smiled as he watched Scott prepare his own bed and slowly drifted off to sleep.

When Scott woke the next morning he felt completely rested. This bed had been ten million times better than the cot that still existed several floors below him. The room was empty, Alan's covers thrown on the floor. Scott made his way to the attached bathroom to tidy up. He found his suitcase on one of the folding racks next to the door and dug into it for his bath things. He took a hot shower and brushed his teeth, making sure he was presentable when he finally walked out into the main room.

The three drivers of Team Tracy as well as Terry and Jim were sitting around and talking about the race the previous day. It was a serious conversation, a debriefing. Scott stood in the doorway and listened, none of the participates aware of his presence for some time as they discussed their strategies, what worked what didn't. It was probably a half hour later that Terry finally looked up and spotted Scott. He didn't say anything but just smiled. That was enough, Alan caught the look and spun around in his seat, jump up and over the back of the couch pulling Scott into another hug.

"Jeeze, why so clingy," Scott laughed as he pulled his brother away.

"I'm just so happy to see you. It's been what, two years?"

"Yeah, I suppose it has," Scott mused, "We've talked though."

"It's not the same," Alan argued.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Scott nodded to the group.

"Nah, we were just finished, right Terry?"

"Yep. We're good," Terry confirmed.

"What do you have planned for today?" Scott asked the room in general.

"We have today off," Alan exclaimed, "But we have another race in a week so most of it is going to be packing things up and getting ready to move on."

"Where is your next race?"

"Virginia."

"Would you guys mind if I kidnapped my brother for the day? I'll get him to Virginia tomorrow sometime."

"Nah, keep him if you want," Jim joked as the other's agreed. They packed up their things and headed back to the track while Alan extended his stay for another night.

"Alright, you've got me all to yourself, what do you want to do," Alan asked bouncing on his heels.

"I want to stay right here and talk."

"Well, that's no fun."

"Oh, I've had a very interesting few days that I want to tell you about."

"More interesting than coming to see me?"

"Much more," Scott grinned as he sat down, "I took a visit to Dad's island."

"What's so interesting there?"

"You are not going to believe me," Scott smiled even wider as he began to explain what he had found.

"Wait wait wait wait wait," Alan exclaimed for what seemed like the thousandth time, "and you're actually thinking about finishing all this?"

"Yes, thinking about it. I wanted to see what you and John thought."

"I don't know what to think. On one hand it does seem like something Dad would do, but on the other it's just so fantastic it's unbelievable."

"Did I mention your machine would be the fastest? Imagine going supersonic right out of the silo," Scott played with him and could see his eyes glaze over in joy.

"But the money it would take, and the time," Alan argued.

"This isn't going to happen overnight. It'll take a few years to finish. But if we can get it started it would also mean giving everything else up."

"You mean my racing?"

"You might be able to race on occasion, but not like you do now. We'd be going all over the world, in space and under water to rescue people, we couldn't stop by race tracks every time to pick you up."

"What about you? Are you tired of the Air Force?"

"It's not as exciting as it was when I was younger, not that I'm that old to begin with," Scott laughed, "But I don't get to go out flying as much as I once did. I think that is part of the reason that I am thinking about this." Scott scooted forward and looked over at Alan, "Don't get me wrong, this won't happen at all if all five of us aren't in on it."

"All five? Does that mean you know where they are?"

"Lady Penelope had their whereabouts two years ago. I'll start there," Scott sighed, "But if they won't do it. Then that's the end. I won't pursue it any more than that."

"Why not? If you want to do it, just find new pilots," Alan argued.

"I thought about that," Scott frowned, "But Dad designed and built those machines for us. No one else but us. It just wouldn't seem right if we weren't all there."

"Yeah, but they made it very clear that they didn't want anything else to do with us."

"Hopefully, time has changed them," Scott shrugged, "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know. I mean, this team is everything to me and we've been quite successful. I don't know if I'm ready to quit just yet," Alan frowned.

"That's alright, it's a big decision. I'd rather you thought about it good, instead of just giving me an impulsive answer now."

"Right, yeah, I'll think about it."

"Come on, let's go get some dinner," Scott stood up and stretched. Their conversation stayed away from their Dad's dream, and Scott listened to some of the close calls his brother has had racing through out his short career. They enjoyed the evening and went to bed early. The next day Scott flew Alan to Virginia dropping him off at the local airport, Terry had arrived to pick him up. Alan was walking away from the plane but turned back to Scott.

"You going to talk to John next?"

"Yeah, though he just got back to earth yesterday. He won't be home for a couple of days yet. I'll probably call Penny and see what she's found as well as get a hold of the Dr. Hackenbacker and see if he made it to the island or not," Scott replied.

"Well, let me know what happens will you?"

"I promise," Scott nodded. Alan jogged back and gave his brother another hug.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," Scott smiled seeing the little boy once again. Alan took off after that jumping in the waiting car. Scott watched as they headed off, then took off himself and headed for Houston.


	6. John

Chapter 6: John

Scott arrived in Houston an hour later and made his way to the local branch of his favorite hotel. He was able to get a much better room than last time to his relief. He settled down and looked up the information on John's latest mission. To his surprise they had arrived back on Earth two days early, due to some inclement weather that was expected in Florida. The astronauts had arrived back in Houston the day before and were dismissed just a few hours ago. Scott thought about going right then to talk to John, but then hesitated, best give him at least a day to readjust to life on the planet.

Instead, Scott decided to give the professor a call and see if he had gotten a chance to visit the island. He dug in his things and pulled out the contact information the strange man had given him, and made the call right away.

"D…Doctor Hackenbacker," He answered.

"Professor, it's Scott Tracy."

"Scott, w… wonderful. I was just thinking of calling you."

"Were you able to make it out to the island?"

"A..actually I'm still there," Scott could hear a smile in the man's voice, "Do you have holographic capabilities in your cell?" Scott pulled his phone down from his ear and touched a button causing a small holographic image of the professor to appear.

"Is that better?" Scott asked looking at the small man standing on his screen.

"Y..yes. I get m..more anxious when I can't see the person I'm talking to," the professor smiled a bit.

"So, what did you find out?"

"Do you want the good news, or the b…bad news?"

"Let's start with the bad news," Scott frowned afraid of what he would say, but ready to get it over with as well.

"Well, everything that was still crated up outside of the facilities is all ruined."

"Alright, and?"

"That's it. We made it a point to hermetically seal the hidden parts of the island every time we left. So, there's been very little to no damage."

"Wow, I honestly expected more bad news than good," Scott smiled, "What about the house?"

"Perfect working order. Like you said, it just n…needs some cleaning. I umm… ate some of the food you had left behind. H…hope that was okay?"

"Yeah," Scott laughed, "Somebody's got to eat it, and I'm not sure I'll be back before my vacations up."

"So, back to the good news," the professor smiled as he looked down at a devise in his hand, "Since most of the components were protected, the timeline hasn't really changed much."

"Just been pushed back eight years."

"Y…Yes. If you are able to get your b..brother's on board, and procure the funds, the organization would be up and running in three years."

"Yeah, about those funds? Just how much are we looking at?"

"A few hundred million."

"And just how much is a few?"

"C…close to six, that's assuming we can get similar prices as before."

"Which I would guess that the answer to that would be a no and we'd have to pay more so we're looking at close to a billion dollars," Scott sighed flopping back in his chair.

"H…have you looked into Tracy Industries at all?"

"Just the public domain, why?"

"Well, as I was looking though things here, I came to realize that although I was taken off the payroll soon after your father's death, I am still able to log into the company server. I was able to look into the funds Jeff had set aside for his project."

"Be careful doing that. We don't want someone to see your login and wonder what is going on."

"Don't w…worry. I had set up a system that would hide the logins and activities of anyone who is authorized to access the files of his secret department," Brain explained, "However, I was able to see that several of the top executives have been trying to get into the files as well."

"And your sure it wasn't because of anything you or I did?"

"No, they started looking into it over a week ago. They know the department is there, but not what it is for or how much money has been funneled there."

"Wait, there is still money being collected in there?"

"Y…yes, almost six billion."

"Six Billion!" Scott yelled in shock.

"Y..yes," the professor laughed, "Plenty to get the organization up and going."

"But surely it won't be that easy. We can't just start using the money that's there," Scott frowned as he doodled on the hotel stationary.

"No, you will still need to gain back control of the company, before we will be able to procure the funds. I'm sure you and your brother's will get communications from them soon enough when they find they cannot get to the files in any other way."

"Why us?"

"The only ones with access are you five, your father, and me. And they don't know about me."

"I see, I'll have to send a quick message to Alan, and I plan to go speak to John tomorrow. I'll assume that if I can't find the other two they won't be able to either. So let's just hope I get to John before they do."

"H…how did your talk with Alan go?"

"Good. He's going to think about it. I'm starting to question myself though. Am I being selfish? Alan and John both have good careers and I'm asking them to just quit."

"You are giving them the option, Scott, not forcing them. In the end it will be their own decision."

"I suppose," Scott frowned not quite convinced.

"Just talk to your brothers. Let them know, that is all you can do."

"Right. Thanks, Doctor Hackenbacker. You've been a great deal of help."

"Please, call me Brains."

"Alright, Brains. Don't hesitate to contact me if there is anything I can do for you."

"S…same to you, Scott." The connection ended and Scott leaned back in the chair.

Scott thought about the situation for a moment. Before, it felt like a long shot. The time it would take to finish building the machines, plus the money to get it done would be enormous. Even if he somehow was able to convince his brothers to go along with it, how would they get the money? Well, now the money was there, just waiting on them. The only obstacle was getting their father's company back in their hands. That would be tricky, but not impossible. Of course he still had to talk to his brothers. Especially those two, the two he had not seen in almost seven years. He decided to give Lady Penelope a call and see if she had been able to confirm their locations or not. He leaned forward and dialed her number, keeping the phone on holographic mode. The phone rang for a moment before her bust appeared before him.

"Lady, Penelope," He greeted her.

"Scott, I didn't expect to hear from you so soon. Have you talked to Brains yet?"

"Yes, he's actually on the island as we speak."

"Oh my, that was faster than I thought. Any chance to play with his marvelous machines," She smiled knowing all too well what Brains was like.

"Yes, well, he expects that everything is still good to go."

"That's wonderful news. Now, all you need are the pilots and the funds, am I correct?"

"Exactly," Scott nodded, "I've talked to Alan, the youngest, already but haven't talked to the others yet."

"He's the race car driver, isn't he?"

"Yes, and has started a wonderful career."

"If he decides to leave that career, it is his decision."

"That's what Brains said as well," Scott chuckled.

"Well, it is the truth," Penny nodded, "So, why are you calling me now?"

"Well, I thought I would see if you were able to confirm the other two's locations."

"Gordon and Virgil you mean?"

"Yeah, them."

"Now, Scott, if you're going to be able to talk to them with out their defenses going up, you'll have to start talking about them as well and not just as, those two."

"Yes, you're right," Scott sighed.

"Do your other brothers talk about them?"

"I don't know about John, Alan no. I met one of the other drivers on his team and she thought he only had two brothers," Scott frowned.

"Well, you will hopefully be correcting that. Even if they don't want anything to do with your father's dream… maybe you can bring them back into the family again," Penelope suggested giving Scott a meaningful look.

"I suppose that would be something… of course even that depends on if you've found them or not."

"Matter of fact, I have," Lady Penelope smiled as she looked to be reading something off to her left, "Gordon is currently living in Los Angeles."

"LA!" Scott couldn't help but jump to his feet and start pacing, "But why haven't I been able to find him. I live right next to the darn city!"

"Well, if you were looking for Gordon Tracy, then he doesn't live there," Penelope explained calmly, "The man that lives there is named Leroy Cooper."

"Leroy Cooper? Where did he get a name like that?"

"Now, Scott, are you telling me you have forgotten how you five got your names?"

"Our names? The mercury astronauts. But none of them were named Leroy."

"Oh really? Well, my information states that Leroy Gordon Cooper was one of those astronauts."

"Oh, I didn't… I thought…" Scott sighed, "How could I have made such a stupid mistake?"

"Well, that is the name he is using now. He's changed it a few times the past few years. Before that his name was Cooper Levens."

"Levens?"

"I have no idea where that came from, I had lost him for a bit and then stumbled upon him one day," Lady Penelope shrugged.

"Alright, how about Virgil?"

"Virgil is now known as Gus Wilkins."

"Gus Wilkins, now I doubt I would have ever guessed that one."

"He did call himself Virgil Grissom for a little while when he first disappeared."

"Yeah, I think I do remember that. I went to find him but he had disappeared again," Scott sat down again, "And where is he?"

"He's in a small town in Indiana. Works as a factory manager."

"A factory manager? Virgil's too experienced for work like that!"

"It's what he's chosen to do. He can't expect to hide if he becomes a famous engineer, painter, or musician."

"I suppose, but he's wasting his talents," Scott frowned.

"That was his own choice," Penelope replied.

"Alright, thanks for all your help Lady Penelope. I really do appreciate it."

"It is my pleasure Scott. I'll send you their addresses shortly. Do let me know how it goes."

"I will," Scott promised and then disconnected the call. He sat for a long time thinking about his two brothers. His phone beeped as Lady Penelope's message came through with the addresses of Virgil and Gordon. He brought up satellite imagery of the two homes in which his brothers lived. Gordon's home was small and square, tightly packed along the houses around it. He did have a small pool in the back, but nothing that would allow him to do anything productive. Virgil's home was small and tidy, with a fenced in yard and two cars in the driveway.

Scott wished he could go talk to John now, but he kept by his original plan. John needed rest after all the commotion of coming back to Earth. Instead Scott turned on the TV and watched whatever came on, relaxing a bit and taking a nap. He had one more week of his vacation left, and three more brothers to talk to. He still had time, he just hoped things turned out for the better and not for the worse.

Scott slept uneasily, worry keeping him awake. He whittled the morning away, waiting for a decent time to go and see John. Finally he felt he had waited long enough and thought they could go and have lunch before getting into the reason for his visit. Scott dressed in his uniform and made his way to John's apartment, which was near the Johnson Space Center. John, was a bit of a stickler for protocol, and had been annoyed the last time Scott had come to visit because he couldn't show him around Johnson without Scott in uniform, even though he was off duty.

It took a half hour to get there, and Scott made sure the name on the mailbox was the same before walking up the flights of stairs and knocking on the door. He waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again. There was a small window to the right of the door and Scott tried to peer in, but the room was dark and there was very little he could see. Scott turned around and leaned on the railing that looked out over the parking lot. There wasn't much he could do, he would just have to wait until John got back.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there, but was starting to wonder if John was ever going to come home. He was fiddling with his hat, and accidentally dropped it. He tried to reach out to grab it, but it fell and landed on a man in uniform who was walking into the building.

"Sorry," Scott called and was taken aback by the face that looked up at him. "Major…," Scott paused as he noticed the rank on the man's uniform, "Sorry, Colonel Simms." He straightened up and saluted the Colonel. The Colonel looked up at the man above him and then down at the hat in his hand making note of his rank.

"Major Scott Tracy," the Colonel couldn't help but smile and salute back. Scott disappeared from the railing and reappeared a moment later at the bottom of the stairs.

"Sorry about that sir," Scott took his hat back and firmly placed it back on his head.

"What are you doing…," The Colonel started to ask, but then glanced up to where Scott had been standing, "You came to see your brother?"

"Yes, I'm on a bit of a vacation and thought I'd drop in to see him," Scott explained following the Colonel's glance to his brother's door.

"Have you ever seen your brother just after a mission?"

"Once, before I transferred out of Edwards, when the shuttled had to land there because of a trajectory error," Scott paused thinking for a moment, "Other than that, no. Last time we met was a month or so out, and even that was almost three years ago."

"Well, you're wasting your time waiting for him to come home, he's probably already up there."

"But the room was dark. Surely he's not still asleep."

"Follow me," The Colonel waved for Scott to do so and walked past the stairs and to a small office behind them. He opened the door and Scott could see an older man sitting behind a battered desk. "Hey, Pa, did John come home last night?"

"Ah, Colonel, yes, yes, Taxi brought him around 2am."

"Good, his brother's come for a visit. Could you let him in."

"His brother? Sure, though I'm not sure how much of a visit he'll get," The man called Pa stood stiffly and grabbed a ring of keys from it's perch on the wall. Scott stood, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. Why would John come home at 2am, and it sounded like it was a normal thing. The Colonel backed away from the door to allow the older man through, and then followed him up the stairs, Scott trailing behind them. The older man made his way to John's door and unlocked it, cracking it open a bit before retreating and going back to his little office. The Colonel stood in front of the door, but Scott's patience had run out and he pushed his way past the higher ranked man and into the room.

Scott had to take a few steps back, covering his nose in the process. The room stunk, but it wasn't the unclean, rotten food stink. It was the smell of alcohol, and lots of it. The Colonel had walked in behind him and flipped a switch that was next to the door lighting the room. John was laying sprawled out on the couch. Scott rushed over to him immediately and felt for a pulse. It was there, and while Scott was leaning over him John let out a belch that forced Scott back a few feet.

"He's drunk!"

"Yes. This is normal for him after a mission."

"What," Scott exclaimed as he looked back at his brother, "Why had I never heard about this?"

"He's off duty. As long as it doesn't affect anything when he is on duty, NASA doesn't care," the Colonel shrugged.

"Surely they don't let him go to space like this, functioning or not."

"Oh, no no," the Colonel shook his head, "This only happens during the first month back from a mission. The second month he spends cleaning himself back up and is always sober from then on, until the end of another mission." Scott frowned and looked around the small apartment, there was an empty pizza box on the small table and beer cans littered the place dotted with a few larger bottles of the stronger stuff.

"It looks like he's done nothing but drink since he's been back."

"That's exactly what he's done," the Colonel nodded, "I occasionally check on him, make sure he hasn't gone and killed himself, but I don't have authority over him when he's off duty."

"Well, I do," Scott fumed a little, "Thank you Colonel for enlightening me on the situation. I would have been standing outside all day waiting."

"Only till five or so. Then he would have either ordered more pizza, or gone out to the bar again."

"Not tonight he's not," Scott frowned. If he had been disappointed in the way Gordon and Virgil had disappeared, it was nothing to how poorly he felt about John at the moment. He bid farewell to the Colonel and then turned to his pathetic brother.

"Alright John, time to wake up," Scott made his way over to this brother and shook him hard, but all John did was groan and roll over. Scott frowned and then took one of John's arms and slung it around his neck, hauling him to his feet. He then half dragged his brother into the bathroom and deposited him partially into the tub, his feet hanging over the edge. Scott reached up and turned the water on, as cold as he could get it, and grabbed the detachable shower head turning the spray of water onto John's face.

"AH," John yelped and tried to bat the water out of his face. When that failed to work he tried to stand up, however he could not get a good grip on the wet surface of the tub and just succeeded in falling down again.

"Did that wake up you," Scott asked turning the water off for the moment.

"What the ****," John exclaimed, causing Scott to widen his eyes and turn the water back on him.

"Your mouth, John. Grandma would be adding soap to the water if she had heard you."

"Turn that water off, I'm awake!" He yelled. Scott obeyed and looked down at his brother who looked very much like a drowned cat.

"It's about time," Scott frowned, "I came to have lunch with my brother, not sober him up."

"Scott," John asked blinking his eyes trying to clear them, "What are you doing here?"

"I just told you."

"And I told you to never drop by on me!"

"I see why," Scott continued to frown as he held out his hand. John ignored it and struggled to stand up on his own. Scott reached out and helped his brother up, but got pushed away once John was able to stand on his own. John stumbled into the living room and started to go through the empty cans looking for one to drink. He found one on the coffee table and went to drink it, but Scott was there and grabbed it away from him. "No way. No drinking while I'm here."

"What is so wrong with drinking? Dad drank."

"Not to excess," Scott argued.

"What difference does it make," John yelled, "I sober up when it comes time to go back to work."

"Dad would not approve of this," Scott yelled back waving to the apartment around them.

"Dad is not here!"

"No, but that doesn't mean that you should just crap out like this every time you're off duty!"

"This is none of your business!"

"Yes it is!"

"You are not my keeper!"

"Maybe not, but I am your brother!"

"Just get out of here, Scott. I don't want you here!"

"Sorry, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Fine, I'm leaving then," John headed to the door, but Scott stepped in his way.

"Like that? You're soaking wet."

"Ah, who cares."

"Last time I was here you got mad at me because I wasn't in uniform, and now you're wanting to walk out like that? What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing!" John yelled turning on his brother, "My job is extremely stressful, Scott. This is how I decompress from that, Okay!"

"No! One of these days you're not going to be able to sober yourself back up and then what!" Scott yelled back pushing his brother away.

"I'll deal with it if it ever happens," John sneered as he stumbled a bit and then flopped down on the couch.

"It hasn't always been like this, has it," Scott asked his voice lowered concerned etched on his face.

"Every mission," John waved it off as if it were nothing.

"Why?" Scott sat down next to his brother, "There are other things you could have done to relax."

"My body, sure, but not my mind," John frowned, "If I don't drink then things just keep running in my head. If I had done this differently, if I had adjusted that a bit more, what might have happened. My experiments don't end when the shuttle lands. Then when I've finished going through all the what ifs there, my mind just keeps going. What if Gordon hadn't had his accident? What if Alan had stayed in NASA. What if Dad hadn't died." John admitted with a sigh, "After Dad died, I didn't have anyone to turn to, and with my mind running like this, with no sleep… it was either beer or pills. I figured beer would be easier to quit when I needed to get back at it again."

"Why didn't come to one of us," Scott asked, horror flooding through him at what his brother had been going through.

"I couldn't. By the time I came back down to Earth and had time to mourn, you were back on base, Gordon was still underwater, Alan was dealing with finals, and Virgil… well, he just wasn't answering his phone."

"You could have called me. I would have sat and talked," Scott tried again, trying to find out just where he had failed.

"I did call you, and we talked for a little, but you were in the middle of testing some plane and were in the air most of the day. By the time you were done, you were sleeping. The second time I called you fell asleep on the phone. I just didn't bother you after that."

"John," Scott sighed flopping back in the couch, "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. Nothing is, before you start blaming yourself for how the family's turned out."

"Too late for that," Scott let a smirk escape his lips. John just rolled his eyes. "Say, you got anything to drink here other than beer?"

"There should be some coffee in the kitchen. Help yourself," John waved his hand toward the small enclosed kitchen behind the couch. Scott stood and noticed as John leaned his head into his hands before moving around the wall. He found the coffee and set the coffee maker to run. As he waited he made himself at home and nosed around the kitchen to see what was there. When Scott finally returned he had two cups of coffee in one hand and two bowls in the other.

"Here," Scott handed over the coffee, which John took both mugs, and then set the bowls on the table, "Eat, you'll feel better."

"And how do you know that," John asked eyeing the goopy substance in the bowl, "And what is this?"

"I went to collage," Scott smiled, "And it's oatmeal. Best thing for a hangover," Scott produced a couple of white pills under his nose. John took the medicine and swallowed them with the help of the coffee.

"I had oatmeal in there?" John asked unsure of when he had bought it.

"Well, I didn't bring it with me," Scott picked up his own bowl and started to eat it.

"Why are you here, Scott? It really is unlike you to just show up out of nowhere."

"Alan said the same thing, though he was a bit happier to see me than you were."

"Getting a face full of water does that to a person," John frowned, "You visited Alan?"

"Yeah, saw him race two days ago."

"He should have stayed in NASA."

"He's happy John, and man has he gotten good."

"Did he win," John asked trying not to sound too curious.

"Yep! He'll be racing in Virginia on Sunday."

"Dad wouldn't have liked him taking on that career," John argued.

"You shouldn't be talking," Scott raised an eyebrow at him glancing to the mess around them.

"Alright, alright. So, what's going on."

"Who said something was going on," Scott tried to hide his smile as he took another drink of coffee.

"Because it is unlike you to suddenly start visiting your brothers out of nowhere. Something is going on. You're not dying or something are you?"

"NO," Scott stated firmly, "Look, why don't you go take a shower and freshen up. I'll, umm… tidy up out here for you."

"Scott."

"Seriously. I can't talk business with you looking like that."

"Fine," John frowned as he pulled himself up and headed for the bathroom, this time under his own will.

By the time John had finished with his nice long shower, he came out of the bathroom to a polished living room, Scott's jacket draped over one of the chairs, his hat on top of it, and the man himself at the sink in the kitchen with his light blue sleeves rolled up to his elbows. John couldn't help but smile at his brother as he made his way into his bedroom and then couldn't help but laugh at what he saw. His bed was made, his clothes picked up off the floor. Scott had even hung up his uniform, though he hadn't had a chance to iron it yet, and a clean outfit was laid out on the bed.

John couldn't help but remember when they were younger, just after their mother had died when the boys had finally gone back to school. Scott would often lay out his brothers' clothes while they were busy eating breakfast and made sure all their stuff was together for the day before he himself would sit down and eat. John quickly got dressed and stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching Scott's back. Scott didn't see him until he turned around to put a cup away.

"So, Mom, anything else I need to do before I get some answers?" He was still a little red around the eyes but fresh clothes and washed hair made him seem more like his old self. Scott just threw the towel at him and put the cup away. "Seriously Scott, you haven't decided to quit the Air Force have you?" John guessed as he looked him up and down, knowing that he hadn't yet done such a thing or he wouldn't be in uniform now.

"No," Scott replied slowly, "At least not yet."

"Scott," John eyed him carefully, "Are you thinking of quitting? What'll you do?"

"Let's go sit down and I'll explain what I've been up to for the past week." Scott slipped past him and back into the living room, sitting down on the couch.

"John? You haven't passed out on me have you?"

"No," John shook his head, trying to process what Scott had just told him, "I just can't believe Dad was actually going to do it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when we were younger I can remember dad watching accidents and muttering about the need for better, stronger machines," John frowned, "I asked him one time and he went on about how great it would be if there was some organization that could go and save people in trouble. I agreed at the time, but thought it such a lofty idea that there would be no way something like that would happen."

"How old were you?"

"I don't know, twelve or thirteen? I hadn't thought about it until you started telling me what you found."

"Yeah, and all the work he was doing on his retirement island," Scott laughed, "Who would have known?"

"Though, you're thinking of finishing it, aren't you," John asked leaning on his elbows.

"I didn't say that," Scott hesitated.

"No, but you are thinking of quitting the Air Force, and the only thing I can think of that would make you even consider that would be this International Rescue."

"Well, you have to admit, it's a pretty awesome idea."

"Yeah it is. But I have the feeling there are still some conditions that need to be met."

"Dad meant for us to pilot those machines. I can't imagine doing this without everyone."

"Everyone?" John asked frowning, "And just how do you plan to do that?"

"I have their addresses, and they are current."

"And you think they'll just welcome you with open arms?"

"I've got to try, John. I won't be satisfied if I don't. I know I'm asking a lot, but like I've been told. I'm giving you guys an option. It's your choice if you want to do it or not."

"As crazy as this sounds," John grinned, "IF you do get the others on board, you can count on me."

"Seriously?" Scott gapped as his middle brother in shock, "Are you sure this is John I'm talking to and not the hangover? I mean I figured Alan would be the first one to join me. Why so eager?"

"Scott, you're offering me my own space station where all I have to deal with is listening to communications from all over the world and looking at the stars whenever I want! I would quit right now if that would help you," John smiled playfully punching Scott in the shoulder.

"Well, it'll still be a few years before we're operational, so don't go quitting yet. But please, lay off the booze."

"I promise," John nodded.

"I'll hold you to that. Even if it means me coming over after every mission to check on you."

"I look forward to it," John smiled truly looking like himself once more.

"How about for now though, we go get us some dinner. Then I'll head back to the hotel, and tomorrow I head for Indiana."

"Indiana," John asked as he stood and passed Scott his hat and jacket.

"That's where Virgil is."

"Would you like some company? Not like I have anything else to do right now."

"I would like nothing better," Scott smiled.


	7. Virgil

Chapter 7: Virgil

Scott and John left the following morning, making their way northeast to the midwestern state of Indiana. They were halfway to the airport when John happened to bring up a curious question.

"Say, Scott, what are we going to do with the plane? Just leave it out in the open?"

"I don't think I have much of a choice," Scott replied through their headset, "I'm spending quite a bit of money jumping around, I don't think I could afford to rent a hanger. She's been out in the open the past week as it is," Scott frowned hating having to do that to his baby.

"You act like you weren't raised the son of a billionaire," John laughed, "I bet you still have most of your inheritance locked away somewhere."

"Yeah, locked away, meaning I can't get to it right now, so it doesn't help," Scott frowned.

"What about Alan," John asked looking out the window next to him.

"What about him?"

"Well, don't race car drivers sometimes fly places? They don't always travel with their teams."

"I don't know, he had a pretty nice RV set up that he showed me."

"Scott, think about who we're talking about. Do you think he'd be content to bop along in an RV, especially on long road trips?"

"Point made, but why do you think he'll have a hanger in Indianapolis?"

"Seriously, Scott. I may not have approved of his career choice, but I know at least this much."

"Know what," Scott asked defensively.

"There is a big race in Indianapolis," John smiled, "You do know why they call them Indy cars right?"

"I never really thought about it."

"It's because of the Indianapolis 500, other wise known as the Indy 500."

"Oh, that big race." Scott nodded realization suddenly donning on him.

"Yes, that one," John laughed.

"Well then, all we can do is ask him," Scott nodded pointing to the phone he had mounted between them before his take off, "It's hooked up via the radio so we'll both be able to talk to him."

"I wonder what he'll say when he hears me," John smiled as he tapped on Alan's picture. The phone rang a few times before someone finally answered.

"Scott, it's Terry," the voice announced on the other side.

"Hey, Terry, Alan around?"

"He's practicing at the moment, but I just let him know you were calling. I think he's coming in… yeah, here he comes, just hold on a moment." There was a pause on the line as they could hear the revving of engines in the background.

"Hey, Scott," Alan's voice came over the line in excitement, "What's up? You haven't talked to the others already have you?"

"Just John."

"Hey, squirt," John called grinning over at Scott.

"Oh, Hey…," Alan replied, the excitement draining from his voice.

"I hear you have another race this weekend," John continued trying to sound disappointed as Scott tried to hide his laughter at Alan's discomfort.

"Yeah… I guess," Alan replied clearly waiting for John to start complaining about his choice in careers.

"Good, I'll be watching."

"I know… wait, what," Alan had perked up at that, "Scott, what did you do to him?"

"Just sobered him up a little," Scott replied. He didn't give Alan the chance to ask anymore questions though and continued on, "Look, we're in the air at the moment. You wouldn't happen to have a hanger in Indianapolis would you?"

"Yeah, but why are you going there?" Alan asked his interest peeked.

"Virgil is living near there right now. I don't know how long it'll take us and you know how I am with my planes. I hate leaving them out unprotected."

"No Problem," Alan laughed, "It's at Executive Airport. North of the city. I even have a small car there you can use. I'll give them a call right now and tell them you're on your way."

"Thanks, Alan," Scott replied.

"So, John. Are you like onboard with this? I mean, you'd have to quit NASA."

"Well, I thought about it and decided to take a lesson from my littlest brother. Do what you love. I think that if this project gets off the ground, it is going to be a lot more rewarding than anything I'm doing with NASA."

"Yeah, I guess," Alan replied not quite in agreement.

"Hey, squirt, don't let my decision affect yours. Take your time and think about it. Either way I'm going to be happy."

"Alright. Have a safe flight, and good luck."

"Thanks, Alan." John disconnected the call and looked over at his brother.

"He really is happy, isn't he?"

"Yeah. He's got himself a really good gig there."

"Do you think he'd be willing to give it up?"

"I do not know," Scott replied. They finished the flight talking about John's latest stint up in space arriving in Indianapolis just before noon. They parked the plane in Team Tracy's hanger and climbed into the small sports car that Alan apparently kept there. They pulled the mustang GT out of the hanger and took off for the open road, Scott inwardly wondering if all of Alan's cars were red.

The town in which Virgil lived was a large town with a prominent university that sat an hour and a half south of Indianapolis. They made their way into the city keeping an eye out for the streets their GPS was calling out. They didn't stay within city limits for long and found themselves on a curving street in an established neighborhood on the west side of the city. Scott slowed as the GPS announced their arrival. The house was a cream color with dark green shutters and doors. He didn't pull into the driveway, but drove past and on down the street.

"What's wrong Scott?" John asked as he turned to watch the house disappear.

"I'm not sure if he is even home," Scott explained suddenly nervous about what they were doing.

"There was a car in the driveway. Nice little one at that," John smiled thinking of the sleek blue convertible they had seen as they passed.

"Yeah, but when I looked at the latest satellite imagery there were two cars."

"The latest huh? Taking advantage of your authority," John asked looking over at his brother.

"It was one time," Scott argued.

"Two if you count looking at Gordon's house too," John smirked knowing his brother all too well.

"Well, what should we do," Scott asked getting themselves back on topic.

"I say we go see if he's home. If not, we sit on his porch till he arrives."

"Well, it's either that or drive around in circles," Scott conceded. He drove back around and parked along the road in front of the house. They pulled themselves out of the low car and looked around.

"Quiet neighborhood," John commented as he waited for Scott to join him. They made their way up the driveway and onto the porch. Scott reached up and knocked on the door. After a few minutes of no answer he rang the doorbell. When there was still no answer Scott looked over to John who shrugged. "Must still be at work." Scott looked around the porch and found that there were two wicker rocking chairs off to one side. Gesturing for John to go ahead of him, they sat down and waited.

They waited for three hours when finally a large green pickup truck rumbled down the street, slowed and carefully pulled into the driveway. Scott and John could see the figure in the drivers seat pause and try to see just who was waiting on their porch. They knew they were deep in the shadows and that Virgil wouldn't be able to see them so they stayed put waiting on him to make the first move. A minute later the door swung open and the sturdy young man jumped down to solid ground. Virgil slammed the door and frowned at the shadows trespassing on his property.

"Tell me who you are or I'm calling the police," Virgil warned as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket.

"Hey, Virg," John called out standing up and stepping into the light so that Virgil could see him. Scott could see the range of emotion play across Virgil's face before he decided to stick to annoyed.

"First, don't call me that. Second, what the hell do you want?"

"We want to talk," Scott announced as he joined John in the sunlight.

"Like hell you do," Virgil made his way to the door, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys. He opened the door and went in, Scott trying to follow, but Virgil had a firm hand on the door and turned to him as he tried to enter. "Who said you could come in?"

"Come on Virgil, we're your brothers," Scott pleaded with him.

"Brothers I never wanted to see again," Virgil growled.

"Then at least let us make our peace with you, and after that if you want us to leave, we will," John suggested as he appeared over Scott's shoulder. Virgil paused for a moment to think about this, and then let go of the door letting the two fall in.

"Sit on the couch, and don't touch anything. I'm going up to take a shower and then I'll be down," Virgil commanded as he stomped up the stairs next to him. Scott and John looked at each other and took a seat. They took in the room around them, it was clearly a bachelors pad, there was no sign of a woman's touch. The walls were perfectly white, he had large leather furniture, a large screen TV, and a small upright piano tucked in the corner. The walls held a few frames, pictures of people neither of them knew, some certificates of accomplishment and merit, as well as a few paintings that the brothers knew to be Virgil's. Scott stood up and walked over to a pair of paintings to examine them closer.

"John, come look at these," Scott ordered as he stepped to the side for John to have a look.

"A sunrise, and sunset," John shrugged.

"Look," Scott pointed to the signature at the bottom. Both pictures were signed as Virgil Tracy and dated within the past couple of years. "Not only that, but do you recognize where these places are?" John stood there for a moment but then finally shook his head. "Imagine a large silo right here, about this tall," Scott motioned on the one painting where the structure should have been.

"The ranch?" John asked looking over at Scott.

"Yeah, I had them take the silo down a few years ago, it was a hazard," Scott explained, "This one is facing the other way. There used to be an old barn out there, but Mr. Peters tore it down almost five years ago."

"So, Virgil's been home?" John asked shock edged his voice.

"Yeah, which makes me wonder…" Scott wandered back to the couch and flopped down as they heard water start running above them. John joined him on the couch and leaned over to see what Scott was doing on his phone. He had pulled up a file filled with names and started scrolling down through them. He stopped and pointed at a name, "There. Steve Wilkins."

"Who's that?"

"Virgil."

"What?"

"His name here is Gus Wilkins. He just changed his first name for the reservation."

"Reservation?"

"I told you about it, I've been renting out the old farmhouse to people for their country vacations," Scott rolled his eyes, "Virgil took advantage of that."

"So, you think we've got a chance?"

"I think we have a chance."

They could hear the water stop, and more stomping around upstairs. A few minutes later Virgil, or Gus, arrived back downstairs in a pair of loose jeans, plaid shirt and no shoes. He glared at the two who were sitting politely on the couch and then at the rest of the room to make sure they hadn't touched anything. Then he went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and came back with a bottle of coke in one hand.

"Coke?" Scott asked a little surprised.

"You have a problem with it?" Virgil asked eyeing him.

"No, no. For some reason I expected you to be carrying a bottle of beer."

"Nah, never liked the stuff," He took a swig and then leveled his eyes at his two estranged brothers, "Alright. Talk."

"Well," John cleared his throat. He had already asked Scott to let him take the lead. He thought he might have a way to get Virgil curious, "Do you remember the last thing you inspected for dad before you found out about his accident?"

"The last thing I inspected?"

"Yeah, in San Fransisco. You asked me about it at his funeral, cause it seemed odd."

"Oh yea, the communications array. I'm surprised you remember it," There was a slight turning up of his lip, but it disappears quickly, "Why are you bringing that up?"

"Because I found it," Scott fibbed a bit. It was possible that that array had ended up in one of those crates on the island. He doubted even Brains had inspected every box, yet, at least.

"You found it," Virgil's bushy eyebrows rose slowly, "Where?"

"I went to dad's island last week," Scott grinned seeing the confusion and interest peek in Virgil's eyes for a moment before he had pushed them back.

"I don't care about anything to do with our father," Virgil growled taking another gulp of his drink.

"What if I told you I know what the array was for," John asked. Once again they could see the curiosity spark in his eyes, and once again he tried to push it away.

"No, I don't care," Virgil barked downing the last of the bottle and standing up to stash it in the kitchen.

"Not even the slightest bit of curiosity as to why he needed that complicated equipment on an island in the middle of the Pacific?" John prompted as he stood to follow him. Virgil was washing the bottle out, but dropped it in the sink and turned to face his next youngest brother.

"Alright fine, why did he need that array on the island?"

"It wasn't meant for the island."

"What?" Virgil shook his head and looked at his brother again.

"That part was never supposed to be on the island. It belonged in space," John repeated, "Why did you think to ask me about it? Because it looked like something that belonged in space right?"

"Well, yeah, I did think that. But why would dad make something like that? What, was he building a space station or something," Virgil forced out a fake laugh.

"Yes," John replied simply which took Virgil off guard. Virgil opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the doorbell. Frowning he abandoned the bottle in the sink and pushed past his brothers to the door. Scott and John could see someone standing there but couldn't see much due to the light streaming in. After a short conversation the man was led in and brought before the duo.

"Guys, this is Sheriff Todd Dixon, Todd these are two old friends of mine, Scott and John," Virgil had emphasized the words friends giving the two meaningful glances.

"Nice to meet you Sheriff," Scott greeted the man and shook his hand, John did the same.

"Gus said that you guys departed company on bad terms."

"Well, yeah. Though honestly, Gus did the departing," John shot a smirk over at Virgil.

"Well, you guys were being jerks," Virgil grumbled.

"Mind if I check you guys out real quick. We have some neighbors that witnessed you waiting for Gus to get home and are worried something bad is going on in here," the Sheriff asked.

"Sure, no problem," Scott smiled warming as he pulled out his wallet showing him not his drivers license, but his military ID. The Sheriff's eyebrows shot up and then he looked back up at Scott.

"Major?"

"New rank, just this year," Scott smiled. The Sheriff took the ID and then looked at what John had produced. Again, he did not show him his drivers license, but his NASA ID.

"You have some very important friends here Gus. Sure nothing is wrong," The Sheriff asked as he took the ID and turned to Virgil.

"No, they are just old friends," Virgil reiterated. The Sheriff nodded and disappeared outside again. "Do not blow my cover, I have worked hard to make a life here," Virgil warned. Scott and John both nodded crossing their hearts in promise which just made Virgil grump some more. The Sheriff came in a few minutes later and handed them back their IDs.

"Looks like everything is on the up and up," The Sheriff reported, "The Major here is on leave, and umm…"

"Just John is okay," John smiled.

"John just returned to Earth," The Sheriff nodded and then mumbled to himself, "Never thought I'd hear those words come out of my mouth."

"Thank you for worrying about me, Sheriff," Virgil stood and escorted the man out the door, thanking him again and then shutting and locking the it behind him. "Alright, you two, out!"

"But what about the comms array? Don't you want to know what it was for?" Scott asked as Virgil tried to shoo them to the door.

"Or why Father was building a space station," John added.

"His retirement island wasn't the island but the space station, fine there's your answer," Virgil frowned at the two who did not seem to want to move.

"Oh no, the space station was for John here," Scott smiled as Virgil froze and slowly looked at the two.

"Dad was building John a space station?"

"And me a rocket," Scott added smiling.

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you ready to listen," John asked gesturing to the seats next to them. Virgil seemed to take a moment to think about it, but his curiosity really was getting the best of him.

"Oh all right. Sit down and make it fast." Scott wasn't about to make it fast, and took his time in explaining all he had found, his conversations with Brains and Lady Penelope and gave Virgil time to let it all sink in.

Virgil sat stiffly in his chair staring at his two brothers, "So, the very organization he was trying to create, would have probably saved him."

"Yeah, probably," Scott nodded as he looked over to John. John, however, had his eyes only for Virgil.

"Virg, why exactly did you leave us?"

"I already told you," Virgil frowned.

"You told Scott and Gordon. I wasn't there. I'd like to hear it from the source."

"I was tired of seeing you get hurt. First Dad and then Gordon. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt by me."

"What," Scott jumped to his feet, "What do you mean by that?" John reached up and pulled Scott down again, but kept his eyes on Virgil.

"Nothing. I was just tired of seeing you risk your lives every day. I didn't want to be around when someone else up and died or got themselves seriously injured."

"No, you said that they were hurt by you," Scott insisted.

"No, I didn't mean…"

"You wouldn't have said it, if you didn't mean to Virgil," John said softly, "You said you were afraid that you would hurt one of us. Did something happen before Dad and Gordon's accidents?" Scott was boring a hole in Virgil's head with the stare he gave him. John was more polite with a worried look on his face and encouraging eyes.

"I was the one that inspected Dad's plane that day. He was getting ready to do it himself, but then got a phone call and asked me to do it," Virgil blurted out, "I must have missed something, I missed something stupid and he crashed and died." Both John and Scott had their mouths hanging wide open. Scott reached over to grab Virgil's hand but he snapped it away.

"I want you to read this," Scott announced as he pulled his phone out and started searching for something. Once he had found it he handed it over to Virgil.

"What is this?"

"Just read it," Scott commanded. Virgil frowned but read.

"What is it," John asked leaning over to Scott.

"Dad's accident report," Scott replied still keeping his eyes on Virgil watching as comprehension spread across his face.

"Why do you keep that," John asked again frowning at his older brother.

"I may blame myself for a lot of things, including how this family has turned out," Scott announced, stopping John in mid objection, as Virgil slowly lowered the phone, "But one thing that I do not blame myself or anyone for is Dad's death."

"That part should have never broken. It should have been good for the life of the engine," Virgil muttered as his engineering brain worked overtime, seeing in his mind how that engine worked and what had happened when that small part deep inside suddenly snapped, causing the engine to stall, and one piece falling father down and cutting a wire, which started a fire and caused all electronics on the plane to shut down, meaning they had no way in which to control the falling piece of metal.

"It wasn't your fault," Scott reached over and laid his hand on Virgil's arm.

"It really wasn't my fault," Virgil repeated staring down at the phone again. Virgil once again took his arm away from Scott, but not in anger, he used it to wipe away the tears that had started to fall.

"What about Gordon?" John asked suddenly before Virgil lost all composure. Virgil took a deep breath and stared John down, for he was positive this was his fault.

"I told him to test it."

"And how exactly did you end up in that decision making process," John asked exchanging confused glances with Scott.

"When he was first offered the chance, Gordon gave me a call. The boat was actually a prototype that Tracy Industries had built for WASP. He wanted me to look at the plans and see if it really was safe. I was, of course, still working there at the time and it was easy enough to look into. I told him the boat was sound and that he should go for it. It would be a heck of a ride." Scott sighed again and took the phone back from Virgil.

"Don't tell me you have that accident report too," John raised his eyebrows.

"No, It's still confidential so they wouldn't let me have a copy," Scott explained as he put his phone away, "But Virgil, you really need to start looking at these things."

"Why?"

"The boat worked like it was supposed to. Beautiful handling even at 400 knots. And then a speed boat appeared and drove right across their path, causing them to take evasive maneuvers."

"Evasive maneuvers at 400 knots! That would cause the boat to…"

"Flip," John offered as Virgil's face went completely pale.

"Who was in the speedboat?"

"Joy riders going in the wrong direction. Security was on their tail, saw the whole thing happen," Scott explained and stood suddenly as Virgil went even paler. He walked over to the side of Virgil's chair and laid a careful hand on his brother's head, "It wasn't your fault. None of it." Virgil lowered his head and a jagged sob escaped his lips. Scott pulled him closer and Virgil clung onto Scott's torso sobbing into his stomach. Scott stood there and held Virgil, John coming up behind him and laying a hand on his back as Virgil cried away the aguish and fear he had kept bottled up for eight long years. Once he had finally calmed down, Scott and John found that he had cried himself to sleep. They laid him back in the chair and found a blanket nearby to cover him up in.

"So, now what?" John asked looking down at their peaceful brother, for once not looking angry.

"Well, it's ten o'clock. I suppose we can just go to sleep and wait for him to wake up," Scott shrugged, "I'll take the couch if you want to go upstairs and commandeer his bed."

"Nah, I'll go in search of extra pillows and blankets and sleep on the floor," John shook his head and headed upstairs. He came back down a moment later with said amenities handing a couple over to Scott before making himself a bed on the floor. They laid awake for a little, not saying much, but watching their brother sleep. Soon, they both nodded off and slept.

It was a quite night, until about four in the morning when an alarm started blaring throughout the house. All three bodies popped up from their sleep and looked around. Virgil pulled his own phone from his pocket and silenced the alarm.

"Crap," He stood and went to take a step forward only to trip on and fall over John who was laying in front of him.

"You guys okay," Scott asked worried, when all he could hear in the dark room was some groaning. There was silence and then the two on the floor started cracking up laughing.

"Sorry, John, forgot you guys were here," Virgil chuckled as he pulled himself to his feet.

"That's alright, I'm still whole. But why are you up at… why are you up?" John asked unable to comprehend the time of day.

"Work, 5am to 5pm five days a week," Virgil explained as he took to the stairs three at a time.

"Jeeze, I don't even pull hours like that," Scott frowned in the dark at where he thought John was.

"I do, but only for a few months before a launch. I couldn't imagine doing it all the time." Virgil was back and flipped on the light, blinding his brothers. He was wearing his work clothes, jeans and a dark blue shirt with the name Gus in red on a white oval background.

"You guys are more than welcome to stay and finish sleeping," Virgil announced as he rummaged in the fridge for a quick breakfast. He stuffed some things in a cooler and then headed for the door. He stopped suddenly and turned to face his sleepy brothers, "Will you still be here when I get home?" He asked worry on his face.

"Sorry, Virg. I still need to talk to Gordon and then be back on base by Monday morning," Scott frowned, sorry that he couldn't stay and visit some more.

"About this International Rescue thing, then," Virgil started, but Scott held up his hand.

"I just want you to think about it. I know you have a life here, and if you don't want to give it up, then don't. Just at least think about it."

"Alright," Virgil nodded and turned to leave again, but hesitated, "Regardless of my answer, would you mind if I came down and visited sometime?"

"You better," Scott warned, "If not then I'm coming back up here to knock some more sense into you."

"It's a deal," Virgil threw a small grin at them before turning off the light and dashing out the door. They could hear the engine rumble to life and then fade off into the distance. Scott and John couldn't help but grin brightly at each other in the dark. They They had their brother back, but they weren't quite whole yet.

"Let's get a few more hours sleep, then head off for LA."

"Sounds like a plan, only this time, I'm hijacking Virgil's bed," John laughed as he made his way upstairs and flopped into the large bed, falling instantly asleep again. Scott couldn't go right to sleep, worried about how his last brother would react to seeing them and hearing their plan.


	8. Gordon

Chapter 8: Gordon

They arrived in LA about mid-afternoon on Friday and went straight to the hotel and checked in. They knew where Gordon lived, but they didn't know anything about his life. They had to be a bit more prepared to approach him than they were with Virgil. Virgil's issues were emotional, they had assumed that they had lain with their father's death, the fact that he blamed himself for Gordon's accident was truly a shock for both of them. Plus, John had remembered his interest in the communications array, which was an easy entry point into the conversation. They didn't have any of that with Gordon. Gordon's issue was both physical and emotional. He couldn't walk, couldn't hardly keep himself afloat when they last saw him. Of course that was seven years ago, and things may have changed, but they weren't too optimistic.

"So, what now?" John was sitting on the edge of one of the beds, while Scott paced the floor in the small room.

"Well, when I looked at the satellite image, it was a small house with a small pool in the back."

"So, you think he may be swimming?"

"Maybe, but it wasn't a lap pool just a normal odd shaped, curved pool with a slide. Maybe he can tread the water."

"That's something. If he can tread, you think he may be able to walk?"

"I don't know. I feel like those are a different group of muscles, though. Plus, it looked like there was a ramp into the front door which may mean that he still uses a wheelchair."

"I wish there was a way we could know for sure." John laid back on the bed.

"There just may be." Scott walked over to the small desk in the room and sat down. He laid his phone on the surface and dialed a number—making sure it was on holographic mode. The phone rang a few times and then a pretty blond lady appeared.

"Scott." Lady Penelope smiled up at him. "So many calls. I hope this means good news."

"Well, the meeting with Virgil went well—at least in general. I encouraged him to just think about everything else." Scott couldn't help but wear a large grin on his face.

"I'm glad to hear that." Penelope smiled back at him. "Who is that over your shoulder?"

"Oh, Lady Penelope, this is John."

"John Tracy, it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"You as well, Lady Penelope. Scott has told me quite a bit about all your discussions."

"I'm sure he has. Does this mean you're on board with the idea?"

"As much as one can be, at the moment." John smiled. "I couldn't exactly ignore the promise of my very own space station."

"If you're anything like your father, then I imagine you cannot." She looked away from them for a moment before turning her gaze back. "It looks like Brains is calling. Let me get him on the line as well." For a moment the hologram of Lady Penelope fuzzed and disappeared but then popped up again, pushed off to the side of the phone, with a man's bust taking up the other side.

"H…hello there." Brains smiled broadly, a streak of grease down one side of his face. "Hi, John, it's nice to meet you."

"You too, umm, you have something down the side of your face."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I've b…been working on Thunderbird 3." Brains pulled out a handkerchief and scrubbed at the grease. "She doesn't have much left to do to be active. I've got all the parts here, so I thought I would work on her."

"Well, don't get too involved. We've still got to talk to Gordon." Scott couldn't help but chuckle at the enthusiasm of the strange little man.

"Is there a problem with the address I sent you?" Lady Penelope looked concerned.

"No, at least, not that we know of. We haven't been there yet." Scott frowned. "We were trying to figure out how to approach him."

"I see." Lady Penelope returned the frown.

"You wouldn't happen to have any information on Gordon, would you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"What kind of information?" John was still leaning over Scott's shoulder, so he could be in the picture with him.

"I don't have anyone tracking him, if that's what you're asking." Penelope smirked at the two brothers. "But, I was able to retrieve his latest medical file."

"And?" Scott leaned forward.

"Physically, he's in top shape."

"You mean, he's walking?" There was surprise in Scott's voice.

"I didn't say that." Penelope shook her head. "According to this, he's regained about forty percent use in his legs. He can use a walker for very short periods, but anything farther than say twenty-four feet and he uses a wheelchair."

"Does it say anything about swimming?"

"No, but it does show that he is actively taking occupational therapy."

"Is that different from physical therapy?" Scott looked over at John.

"Y…yes." Brains' image shifted a little as if he was rolling onto the balls of his feet. "Ph…physical therapy is working to improve functionality. occupational therapy is l…learning how to take care of oneself within one's limited capacity."

"So, he hasn't been trying to improve his situation at all." John frowned. "But, he is working on making his life easier."

"In a way." Penelope flipped through the tablet she was holding. "But, it seems as if it's a requirement."

"For what? It's not like he needs the money, does he?"

"I don't know. It looks like its for a city permit of some sort." She flipped through the files before her. "He does swim a little at home, though. There is a note here that the doctor sees him using his legs in the water, but doesn't work them enough outside of it. He thinks he could regain most of the use of his legs if he would just go back to therapy, but patient is non-compliant."

"I see." Scott frowned as he scratched at the finish on the desk. "Brains, assuming that he absolutely refuses to work on his legs, would it be possible to redesign the mini sub, so that he could use it with limited need of his legs?"

"Of course." Brains pushed his glasses back up. "It would just take redesigning the console so that all controls were accessed via the hands and possibly the head. Depending oh how much use he does have of his legs, we could even make some controls respond to pushes of the knee."

"Don't go doing anything yet, but it's something we could use." Scott nodded.

"There is a problem with that, though." Brains frowned watching Scott carefully. "If he cannot use his legs, then he wouldn't be able to dive. There would have to be someone with him to do the physical rescue."

"Doesn't the sub have room for two people?"

"As it is designed right now, only one can sit in the cockpit. The cargo hold can hold up to three people, but it would be a very tight fit." Brains frowned as he brought up the blueprints for the small sub. "I suppose we could take off one of the dry tubes and put a second control station in the back, that would limit the number of wounded to one, with only standing room for one or two others."

"That doesn't seem very conducive to a rescue." John started to pace along the room.

"No, we designed it so that the operator would have just enough room to control her, with ample room for the injured. Two dry tubes to send injured to the surface quickly and then up to four others standing in the hull. If they aren't standing, then two, maybe three, laying down. Otherwise, she would have to make multiple trips to the surface to get everyone free."

"Alright, that's good to know. If we have to make sacrifices, then we will face that when the time comes." Scott nodded. "Is there anything else you think we should know?"

"That's all the information I have." Penelope shook her head and laid down the file she had been holding.

"I…I think if he is interested in joining the organization, the necessity for him to work on strengthening his legs is paramount to him being able to perform successfully on the job."

"So, if he is not interested in improving himself…" John didn't really want to complete the thought.

"He shouldn't be part of it." Brains nodded. "Yes, we can alter and retrofit T…Thunderbird 4 to work for him, but if he is not interested in his own well being, how can we be sure that he will have full interest in those he is rescuing, or make sure he himself is safe during the rescue. We can't have a member who is constantly putting himself in danger for no reason."

"I think Brains brings up a good point." Penelope frowned. "Gordon shouldn't join if he is not totally prepared for what it requires."

"Well, maybe he could join in limited capacity." John appeared behind Scott again. "Not as a pilot for Thunderbird 4, but to help around base."

"T…that is a possibility." Brains nodded. "Assuming he wants to be part of the family again."

"That would possibly mean that you would have to accept his wishes about his own condition. If he doesn't want to improve, but be a part of the family again, you would not be on him about it." Penelope gave Scott a pointed look.

"That might be an issue." Scott frowned, "I don't know if I could just sit and watch him do nothing when there is a chance of improvement."

"Well, maybe if we can get a decent place for him to swim." John shrugged.

"Oh! I don't think I told you about the pool." Scott perked up.

"It's an island, surrounded by water. Why is there a pool?" John looked down at his brother, an eyebrow raised.

"The p…pool has double duty." Brains brought up the blueprint of the house for John to see. "It acts as a camouflage for Thunderbird 1's exit."

"What, does the rocket come out of the pool?" Scott's interest peaked at the mention of his bird.

"Not the pool itself, but underneath. The pool r…retracts under the house, opening the way for Thunderbird 1 to launch."

"What is its other duty?"

"To give Gordon a place to swim." Brains frowned.

"So, even if Gordon were to agree to come to the island, he would have to look at the pool his father had built for him." John sighed not sure if this was good or not.

"That could lead him to start helping himself or to leave again." Penelope voiced his concern.

"I suppose that is just something else we'll have to deal with, if it comes to that." Scott nodded.

"We have a lot to think about before we go and see him." John smiled looking down at his brother.

"Yeah, I kind of wish we could go right now with all this information in our heads." Scott agreed.

"I would have to try and convince you otherwise." Penelope shook her head slightly. "I think it would be much better for you to think it over and plan out what you want to say."

"I… I agree with Lady Penelope."

"Well, it's too late in the day anyways, so you two win." Scott smiled. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to us."

"Anytime, Scott. Let us know how it goes." Penelope said her goodbye and disappeared.

"I have to return to Massachusetts this weekend, but I will be thinking about alterations we could do to Thunderbird 4."

"Thanks, Brains." John nodded as the young engineer disappeared as well.

"So, what do we do?" Scott turned to look up at John.

"We go to sleep." John stretched and walked over to his bed, "We'll get up in the morning, have breakfast, and talk about a plan of action. Then, we go visit our fish." Scott nodded and headed to his own bed.

It was early afternoon when the two brothers pulled up in front of the small house, which their wayward fish apparently lived. It was a small, one story, square of a house with cracked and crumbling stucco. There was a black iron fence around the property, though the gate was busted and hung partially open. The windows and door also had bars over them, however, they looked more secure. They made their way through the gate that squeaked loudly and took the dozen steps to the door. Scott looked over his shoulder at John, who nodded in encouragement. Slowly, Scott reached up and hit the doorbell. There was a loud ring as the sound echoed through the small home. They waited for a few minutes, and Scott rang the bell again, but no sooner had he done it a voice echoed from inside.

"Hold on, I'm on my way!" A moment later the door cracked open and a pair familiar brownish-hazel eyes appeared. "Before you even start, I don't want whatever it is your selling."

"Hey, fish." John smiled over Scott's shoulder. Scott was just grinning, not able to say anything over the relief of finding his wayward little brother. The door opened a bit more as Gordon's face registered complete shock at seeing his brothers, and then slammed shut. Scott frowned and rang the doorbell again, while John reached over his shoulder and started knocking on the security door.

"Alright, stop it already!" Gordon opened the door again, and reached in flipping something on the inside of the security door before disappearing into the dark house. Scott reached down and pulled on the door which opened effortlessly. John followed him inside and waited for their eyes to adjust. All the windows in the front had heavy drapes across them, and there was only a single lamp on in the room. The windows toward the back of the house where uncovered, and sunlight filtered in through the barred windows. Through them, Scott could see the surface of a clean pool shining through. The room they found themselves in was small, contained one chair sitting in front of a large screen TV. Gordon was just sitting himself down from the walker he had been using. He looked quite healthy—Scott had imagined him overweight and stick thin. He was glad he was neither. His hair had grown quite long and he had it pulled back into a pony tail at the nape of his neck. He wore a simple t-shirt and cargo pants, which allowed Scott to see that he still maintained his tan.

"Hey." Scott raised his hand in greeting.

"What do you guys want?" Gordon slumped down in his chair, a frown on his face.

"We came to talk to you." John made his way into the kitchen grabbing the one chair that sat there. He brought it back into the room and sat it down facing Gordon, and then pushed Scott to sit. He was going to be doing most of the talking.

"About what?"

"Scott." John nudged his shoulder bringing him out of his stupor.

"Sorry, sorry." Scott shook his head but still had a smile plastered to his face. "I'm just so happy to see you. I thought we'd never find you."

"That was the plan." Gordon pouted, crossing his arm. "But you did and now you're here. Why?"

"We want to talk about Dad." Scott's grin finally faded away. They had decided to get right to the point with Gordon, no beating around the bush.

"Dad?" This had taken Gordon off balance like they had thought it might.

"Yes, Dad." Scott took a deep breath. "Remember his retirement island?"

"What about it?" Gordon's eyebrows drew together in confusion and suspicion. Scott leaned forward and began to tell him.

Gordon leaned back in his chair as he listened. He didn't interrupt Scott as he described the island—pool and all—and the machines he had found deep inside. Scott continued on about the organization and the plans and what all needed to be done for their father's dream to come true.

"You can't be serious." Gordon frowned once Scott had told him everything.

"I am very serious." Scott sat back in the chair. "But only if everyone is on board."

"Oh, am I the holdout then?"

"I don't know. Alan and Virgil are still thinking about it."

"You've talked to Virgil?" Gordon had a look on his face as if saying the name left a nasty taste in his mouth. Scott looked up at John behind him, they hadn't thought that Gordon may not have a good opinion of his older brother.

"Yes, he is part of everyone." Scott was hesitant, but there was no reason to keep secrets anymore. "Is there a reason you don't want him involved?"

"He left us, left me alone." Gordon frowned looking back towards the kitchen.

"Gordon, I want you to confirm something for me." Scott leaned forward again. "Virgil said that you had him look at the blueprints for the hydrofoil. Is that true?"

"Yeah. I knew they had put it through tests and stuff, but I just thought I'd feel better if Virgil had a look as well, see what he thought of it."

"And he approved of it?"

"Yeah, said it looked sound." Gordon frowned wondering why they were brining that up.

"Gordo, Virgil didn't see the accident report. He didn't know how the accident had happened. He assumed that there had been issue with the boat. The boat that he had told you was perfectly safe." Scott frowned. "He felt like it was his fault you had been injured."

"Add to that." John squatted down on the other side of Gordon so that he could see his reaction better. "He hadn't looked at Dad's accident report either—thought that was his fault as well."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Gordon glared between his brothers.

"He blames himself—or at least he did till we got him straightened out." Scott frowned. "He left because he thought it was his fault you and Dad got into accidents. He didn't want to be a liability to anyone else."

"That's stupid!" Gordon punched the arm of the chair.

"Yes it is. But that is the truth."

"Now I wish he were here so I could hit him in the head with this walker." Gordon kicked the walker that still sat in front of him.

"I'd like to see that." John smiled looking over at Scott who also had a grin on his face.

"So, now about you." Scott turned back to Gordon. "What do you think about this organization that Dad had dreamed of."

"It's an awfully lofty idea." Gordon was frowning, but they could see the gears working in his head.

"But one that is attainable by what Brains has told me. He was going to create it, he just needed a few more years." Scott was on the edge of his seat, literally.

"But what can I do, I can barely walk as it is." Gordon frowned looking down at his own legs.

"Well, that is a bit of a catch." Scott frowned, they were on touchy ground now, and he was hesitant to push his brother too far should he decide to kick them out and move away again.

"Look, Gordon, we were able to see your recent medical file." John took the leap. Gordon stared at him open mouthed, and even Scott had to gape at John for declaring that openly.

"How did you do that? I'm the only one allowed access to that, I made sure of it!"

"We have a secret agent at our disposal." John smiled. "Quite the pretty one at that."

"She was the one that found you." Scott tried to go with the flow. "The doctor thinks you could regain use of your legs—almost full use—if you would just go to therapy."

"I hate therapy." Gordon grumped.

"I know it's not fun but think about it. If we can get you up on your legs again—free from any kind of device—you would have an olympic sized pool free for your use." John described it as if it was a cake to a hungry person. "As well as your very own mini sub that you could use to go to the bottom of the ocean to study whatever you wanted."

"Or just to hang out and get away from us if you needed to." Scott was smiling, seeing that they were having an effect on him.

"Plus you would have all four of us in one spot again, open to any kind of practical joke you could think of." John beamed at him, knowing that comment had been the cream on the top.

"Hey, John, I want him to join us too, but really." Scott looked astonished at John and then worried at the evil looking grin spreading across Gordon's face.

"Hey, I'll be in space so I won't have to deal with him."

"Oh, now that is evil." Scott laughed, but the laugh died when he looked back at Gordon. The smile he had played with had disappeared and a frown had replaced it.

"It sounds amazing, really." Gordon sighed. "But, what you read in the file was wrong. That doctor is so optimistic, it's off putting. I could be on my death bed and he would be saying that everything was fine."

"Gordon." Scott frowned. "How do you know if you haven't tried?"

"I have, Scott." Gordon continued frowning as he met eyes with his eldest brother. "A couple years after I left, after I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I found a physical therapist and really tried to get my legs working again. I worked for three years and this is as far as I got." Gordon waved down to his offending appendages looking down to hide his face. Scott frowned and looked over at John who could only shrug not knowing what to do.

"Hey, Gordo, you could still be a part of it." John suddenly remembered his idea from the previous night. "You could be in charge of something on base."

"What? Be your cheerleader? Nah, no thanks." Gordon shook his head and pushed himself out of his seat, grabbing the walker before him. Scott and John had to scramble out of his way as he slowly headed to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water taking a long drink before sitting it down on the kitchen table. His back was to his brothers and it looked like he was looking out the window towards his pool. "You said it was an olympic sized pool?"

"Yeah, six lanes and everything." Scott grasped at the comment. Gordon didn't respond, but just stood there. Then after several moments of silence, Gordon dropped to his knees.

"Gordon!" John and Scott dropped to the floor next to him. Scott threw the walker off to the side so he could get to him better. Gordon was shaking, his hands in fists on the floor.

"Why?" Gordon sobbed as Scott sighed in relief that he hadn't hurt himself but still worried about their little fish. "What did we do to deserve this?"

"What are you talking about?" John asked as he petted his reddish blond top.

"Dad dying, my accident, and Virgil leaving. It seems like we weren't meant to be happy." Gordon sobbed even harder. "I…I left because I thought I would just be bringing you all down. I didn't want Alan to think he had to become my keeper. He had been talking about quitting school, so he could take care of me. I didn't want him to do that."

"Gordon." Scott pulled him in and held him to his chest as the young man continued to cry. "I wouldn't have let Alan do that. We all would have helped you."

John scooted in and joined the huddle.

They stayed like that for a moment before Gordon sniffed and lightly pushed the two away. Scott and John hovered over him, not sure what they should do next. Gordon sniffed a few times and rubbed his arm over his eyes before taking a deep breath.

"My wheelchair is in the bedroom." He pointed to a small hall that led to the side of the house. John jumped to his feet and disappeared in the hall, returning a moment later with the black chair. He parked it behind Gordon and locked the wheels then joined Scott in helping their brother into it. They stepped back and gave Gordon some room.

"I've been miserable the past few years." Gordon turned himself around so he was facing the living room. Scott and John stood before him, frowns on their faces, afraid of what his conclusion would be. "I've missed everyone so much."

"Why didn't you call. We were easy to find." Scott leaned over towards him.

"I was afraid… afraid that you wouldn't accept me like this. That I would be a disappointment to you." Gordon shook his head. "My brother's the… are you colonel yet, Scott?"

"No." Scott laughed a little. "Just a Major."

"Still, my brothers the jet plane pilot, astronaut, and professional race car driver. And here I am, unemployed and disabled."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Virgil is just a factory manager." John offered weakly.

"He could do better." Gordon frowned.

"So could you." Scott pulled out his phone and was flipping through the contacts. "Tin-Tin still works with Tracy Industries, she might be able to find you a job."

"Doing what? I'm an oceanographer. If I can't dive, I can't study the ocean."

"Maybe Brains could create something for you to use." John perked up a bit. "Heck, if we don't get the organization up, he could retrofit the mini-sub for your use."

"Yeah, since you wouldn't be required to go out and help people, it should be easier for him to make the necessary changes. Open up the cockpit, maybe make it so you could just wheel right into it." Scott added sounding hopeful.

"But where would we get the money for that?" Gordon asked looking up at them.

"I still have my inheritance, and I think John still has most of his." Scott looked over at him.

"Sure, and Virgil probably hasn't used his. Between the three of us I'm sure we have plenty to help you out."

"I don't want you to waste your money." Gordon started to back away from them. Scott kneeled down and grabbed his chair keeping him from running away.

"Gordon, you are our brother. We will do anything for you." Scott looked up at Gordon a smile playing on his face. "How about in a couple of months we all get together somewhere for a little reunion. Alan usually doesn't have many races in January, and Virgil said he had vacation coming up. A starting point, to try and get to know each other again."

"What about the organization, and Dad's dream?" John laid his hand on Scott's shoulder.

"I started this with the intent of trying to get it finished, to get the organization going, but now… it's not important. Just finding Virgil and Gordon, getting the family together, that is what was important. I think Dad would understand."

"So, you're okay with me like this?" Gordon's voice was tinged with shock.

"As long as you're not giving up on your life. We'll find a way for you to do what you love, just give us some time to brainstorm and get the funds together."

"Hey, maybe he could go live with Virgil." John smiled teasing a little.

"Or he could travel with Alan." Scott chuckled.

"How about I just stay here for now, until we figure some things out." Gordon smiled at his two brothers. "And I promise I won't disappear again."

"That sounds like a deal." Scott agreed and John nodded.

"I think I'm getting tired, could you come back tomorrow?" Gordon was a little hesitant, but Scott and John just continued to smile.

"Sure, we can watch Alan's race together." John waved a hand at the large TV and Gordon agreed.

It had been a difficult week. After Scott had dropped Alan off in Virginia on Tuesday, he had to hurry up and get some practice in before going to his mentor's funeral Wednesday. Then, he had to fly back to Virginia on Thursday to get some more practice in before the time trials on Friday. He hadn't placed as high as he usually did, and the other drivers on the team were walking on eggshells around him. The race itself had been a disaster. There had been multiple wrecks—though lucky no one on his team was involved. Alan ended the race in tenth place, while Jonah took eighth, and Dave ninth. Not the one-two-three finish he had envisioned. He could hear the commentators, over the loud speakers, talking about how it must have been because of Shawn's death that Team Tracy did poorly compared to the rest of the season. That just made Alan even more depressed. Not to mention, he was worried about Scott and what he was doing. Alan still didn't know if he wanted to join this organization or not. But, if they could reconnect with Virgil and Gordon that would be like Christmas and birthdays for a lifetime. Alan was always an optimist, but, right now, he kept finding his mind drift to the pessimistic side of things. He could just imagine Virgil throwing Scott and John out, refusing to talk to them. He could see Gordon locking the door, not even looking them in the face.

Alan avoided the press as he made his way back to his RV, he didn't even bothering to stop by the garage to talk to the others. He just wasn't in the mood. He flopped on the bench of his little dinning table and leaned his head back exhausted. He loved his life, but this time, he was glad that there wasn't another race next week. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to do it.

Suddenly a buzzing sound startled him. It happened again. It took him a moment to figure out what it was. He had left his phone on the table before the race, and it was vibrating. He grabbed it and swiped his finger across the front to see the alerts. he glanced at them and threw the phone back down, but then jumped and scrambled to grab the phone again. He looked at the alerts again: Scott, Scott, Scott, John, Scott, Unknown, John, Scott, John, and Unknown.

"What do they want?" Alan unlocked the phone confused by the sheer number of texts from his brothers and started to go through them.

'Have a good race today, we'll be watching!' Scott had texted just as the race was starting.

'Alan, watch those turns!' Scott again.

'Are they supposed to cut you off like that?' And again.

'I think your career choice is ten times more dangerous than mine.' John.

'I almost thought you had it there,' Scott again.

'Hey, Alan. Watching the race. You're still taking your turns too tight, work on it. I hope I'll be able to see you in person soon. Good luck. — Virgil'

Alan froze, and stared at the text. He read it over and over, a smile creeping back onto his face. There was a link at the bottom and he clicked it, a picture popped up. It was a picture of Virgil in a bar with a coke in his hand. There was a TV behind him, Alan could make out a picture of his car with his name along the bottom of the screen. He could feel the tears at the corner of his eyes, but he took a deep breath. He didn't want to read the next text, he could have just sat and stared at the picture, but he forced himself to continue.

'I'm not sure I can watch this anymore. Are there usually this many wrecks?' John.

'Alan, why are you riding that person so bad? What if they slow down?' Scott.

Alan couldn't help but laugh at their unenlightened knowledge of racing.

'Scott says that you usually finish better, but I thought you did a good job.' John.

'Alan, good race, though you need to work on your turns. I hope we can see each other soon. But until then, here is a picture for you to put on your phone.'

Alan frowned. He had no idea who that text was from but went ahead and opened the link. The picture popped up in no time. Alan started to cry. It was a picture of three of his brothers, a still of him in his car on the TV behind them. Scott and John were kneeling on either side of Gordon. All three were smiling. Alan sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his arm before leaning over his phone and replying. First to Virgil, and then Gordon.

'Hey, Virg! You're alive! I know how to take my turns, it makes me faster! And I will come and see you, just let me know where you are!'

'Gordo! I am sending you all kind of hugs right now. I've missed you man!Awesome picture, BTW. I'll have to print it out and hang it in my RV!'

Just as he sent the last message another one popped up. It was a group message from Scott to both Alan and Virgil.

'Hey, guys. Just wanted to let you know that I've given up on trying to resurrect Dad's dream. It was his dream, not ours. I'm just happy to have my brothers back. Let me know when you guys have some time off so we can arrange for us to get together. It has been far too long since the Tracy Brothers have caused some havoc!'

Alan was torn between being happy and being sad. He had seen how much the organization meant to Scott, and he was a little sad that he was giving it up, but at the same time he was overjoyed with knowing that they were once again on speaking terms with everyone. Finally, happiness won over. The dream wasn't dead, it just wasn't the right time.

There was a hesitant knock on his door, and Alan wiped the last of the tears away, and then hopped over and threw the door open surprising the three drivers standing outside.

"Hey, Alan." Jonah frowned unsure what to make of the smile on Alan's tear streaked face.

"Is everything okay?" Trixi looked worried as Alan joined them on the ground.

"Better than ever!" Alan beamed at them. "Take a look at these pictures I just got!" The three huddled around Alan as he brought up the first picture. "This is my brother, Virgil. Second oldest after Scott." He then swiped for the next one. "Scott you know, and this is John, the astronaut. John's the middle one. Then there's Gordon, he's the fourth." Alan was grinning even brighter as tears once again started to run down his face.

"Wait, I thought you only had two brothers?" Dave looked up at Alan, and then tried to back pedal when he saw the tears.

"There have always been five Tracy brother." Trixi smiled. "Scott told me. Just two of them estranged themselves. Looks like they're back in the picture again, though."

"Yeah, Scott went to talk to them." Alan smiled as Trixi pulled him in for a hug.

"I'm glad to hear it." Jonah and Dave joined the huddle and they stood there for a long moment before Alan extracted himself.

"How about we forgo the debriefing today—It was a crappy day anyways—and go get some dinner?" Alan ran off before they could reply making them run after the hyper kid.


	9. A Secret Among Brothers

Chapter 9: A Secret Among Brothers

Scott was finishing up some paperwork before leaving on vacation. They had just spent the past six months testing a series of planes that required all of the squadrons to work together to get it done. Finally, it was finished, and this was the last of the paperwork associated with the project. Scott was glad he was able to get it done. The vacation he was planning this year was going to be one of the best, he just knew it.

For the past two years, his brothers would meet up for a two week vacation at some unique location.

The first year had been Las Vegas. Alan and Gordon were inseparable. They spent half their time at the aquarium at Mandalay Bay and split the rest of their time between the theme park at the Adventuredome and the rides on top of the Stratosphere. They could barely get them to sit still long enough to eat. The other three tended to tag along with their brothers but sat at the bars while they had fun. Scott, John, and Virgil chatted and generally got caught up with everything that had happened to them. Virgil dragged the entire family to the Bellagio Gallery of Fine Art one day and seemed to enjoy it—even though Alan and Gordon grumbled the entire time. They had tried a few of the music acts and watched a few of the shows the city offered. None of them were much into gambling, but Gordon had dared Virgil to try some black jack, and Virgil ended up winning a thousand dollars. Gordon took the money and lost two thousand.

Last year had been Hawaii. They stayed in Oahu, along Waikiki beach. It was a much more relaxing vacation than Las Vegas had been. They spent long stretches on the beach and days exploring the island. Gordon had been somber for most of the first week until they were able to get him into the ocean. It had taken some discussion between Scott and a local snorkeling and kayaking company, but finally, they got him into the water and he cheered up considerably.

This year, he was sure he had picked the perfect place where everyone was going to enjoy themselves. There were attractions that were perfect for the speed junkies, space junkies, art junkies, and even the water junkies of the family. Yes, this year they were finally having a family vacation at Disney World. Scott couldn't help but smile as the child in him jumped up and down in excitement. They had all been wanting to go since they were little, but after their mother's death the money just wasn't there. By the time they had money, they felt they were too old—at least Scott,Virgil, and John did. Now, however, there was no such thing as being too old, too young, or too anything else. They were all going to enjoy it if it was the last thing Scott made sure of.

He slid the last of the papers neatly into the secure envelope, wrapped the string, and signed his name and date under the last person who had looked through it. It was off to the next step that would hopefully take the planes into active use within the Air Force. He looked around to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything and was just about to stand when there was a knock on his door. He frowned, he had told his secretary that he was not taking anymore visitors or mail for the day. The person knocked again. Where was that secretary? Finally the door handle turned and the door opened. Major Scott Tracy put on his annoyed face and frowned at the person who entered.

Virgil stuck his head through the door, saw Scott, and laughed. He made his way into the room, shut the door behind him, looked up, and laughed again. Scott was shocked at seeing his brother but annoyed at the greeting he had been given.

"What are you doing here?" Virgil was supposed to be meeting them in Florida. He was not supposed to be here. And Virgil was still laughing.

"Do you always use that face when your pilots come in? Is it a test? To see how long they last without breaking a smile?"

Scott couldn't help but smile at his brother. "You still didn't answer my question." Scott crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

"Hey, isn't this the office you dragged me into after Dad died?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah probably. Why are you here?"

"It's actually kind of nice when you're not sweating bullets. Now he knew how to put on a stern face. When he gave you that warning before we left, I about peed my pants, and he wasn't even talking to me."

"Virgil." Scott was starting to lose his patients.

"Isn't he over John now?"

"Yes. Why are you here?"

"I wonder if he's as strict with the astronauts as he is with the pilots." Virgil wandered around the small office.

Scott had had enough. He picked up his things and started for the door.

"Whoa, where are you going?"

"Well, since you don't seem to want to answer my question, I thought I'd go on vacation."

"Alright, settle down. There's been a change of plans." Virgil smiled at his brother.

"A change? Can someone not go?" Scott was concerned, it would be impossible for him to reschedule at this late of a date.

"No, no, everyone is going. Just a change in location."

"What? I thought everyone was excited to go to Disney World." Scott gapped, his inner child was in the corner drawing circles in the carpet.

"Yes, we were, but we found something even better." Virgil grinned as he picked up a few of the nicknacks on the desk.

"What is better than Disney World?"

"That, my dear brother, is a secret." Virgil's grin just got bigger.

"But what about our reservations?"

"Don't worry, that all got cancelled weeks ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well,… hey, is that what i think it is?" Virgil had looked past Scott to the opposite wall from where he had been looking earlier.

Scott turned around to see what Virgil was looking at, a small smile creased his face. "Oh, yeah, Gordon's gold medal. I thought about giving it back to him, but he still seems a little down about not being as mobile as he used to. Wasn't sure if he would appreciate it or not."

"Oh, I think he would appreciate it." Virgil continued to smile as he slid past Scott and took the shadow box down off the wall and pushed it into Scott's chest. "You can give it to him this week."

"So, what is the vacation then, and what in the world is better than Disney World?"

"Just follow me dear brother and you shall find out." Virgil left the office and waited for him out in the hall.

Scott followed him out of the building and to his car.

"I'll meet you at your house. You can get your stuff, but I'll be driving." Scott frowned but nodded. They drove the short distance to the house Scott was renting, and Virgil waited in the car as Scott finished packing. He came out a few minutes later and loaded his luggage into the car and got in.

"I hope we're still going somewhere warm. If not, then I need to go and repack." Scott fastened his seatbelt and made himself comfortable.

"You'll be fine." Virgil held up something before Scott. It was a pink, frilly sleep mask. "Go on, put it on."

"Are you serious?"

"Go on, I told you it was a surprise." Scott frowned as he snatched the mask from Virgil and pulled it on.

"There."

"Good, now no peaking. It's going to be awhile."

"Just how long is awhile?"

"You'll see."

"I somehow have the feeling this was Gordon and Alan's idea."

"Well, you're not wrong there."

"I'm toast."

Virgil pulled out of Scott's driveway and headed off.

Scott tried to follow the car as it turned left and then right and then stopped for a bit before taking quite a few more turns before finally being turned off. In total the trip had taken almost an hour. "Can I take it off now?"

"Oh, no. That was just the first tiny leg in our journey." Virgil laughed as he got out of the car and hopped around to open Scott's door. He helped Scott out of the car and then led him somewhere. Scott opened his ears for any hint as to where they were, but it was completely silent.

"Alright Scott, you're going to have to take a big step, lift up your foot and I'll put it on the bottom tread."

Scott did as he was told and his hands were placed on a handle. He pulled himself up and felt around, there was an opening in front of him and he could feel a seat, so he took another step up and sat down.

"Good, turn to your left and pull your other foot in."

Scott followed the directions and could hear the door slam next to him. He sat there for several minutes before Virgil bumped him as he got in on his other side. Scott heard a series of clicks and then felt as a pair of large headphones were put over his ears.

"We're in a plane," Scott yelled as the engines sprang to life.

"I told them we didn't need the blind fold to get you here, but they insisted." Virgil laughed over the comms.

"Wait, when did you get your license back?" Scott turned to look at his brother even though he still couldn't see anything. Virgil had let his license expire just after he had disappeared and as of the previous year had been hesitant to get it again.

"Oh, recently. John helped me." Scott could hear the smile in his voice.

"Alright then, do I get any clues? Like how long this flight is going to take?" "Nope." Virgil shook his head—even though he knew Scott couldn't see him. They took off without a hitch and started their journey. Scott kept trying to get Virgil to tell him where they were going, but when it was clear that Virgil was not going to say a word they turned to other topics.

In the end, the flight had taken almost four hours. They touched down on a paved runway—Scott noted—and once the engines were shut down Virgil had jumped out of the plane and was on the other side trying to help Scott.

"Can't I take it off now? It would make this so much easier." Scott was trying to find the step down, but kept hitting air.

"Nope."

"Fine, just let me jump then. I can do that much blindfolded at least."

"Alright, you're clear. Just jump straight ahead."

Scott did, and landed on his feet stumbling a bit not having the visual clues for balance.

Virgil reached out and grabbed an arm to help him and then started to lead him up a staircase. "Alright, step now. And again. Again. Again."

"Just how long is this staircase?"

"Pretty long."

They continued up in this manner until they reached level ground again. Scott had listened intently and knew they were walking up some sort of stone surface. Virgil continued leading him and they took another three steps onto a wood floor. The sound of their footsteps echoed quietly in the stillness. Scott could hear birds in the distance and the sound of waves, which did not surprise him because he could smell the saltwater from where they were. Virgil turned him almost completely around and then started him up another flight of stairs—wood this time. A dozen steps later they were on a flat surface again. Scott paused and turned his head, he thought he had heard a giggle.

"Alright, we're here. You can take off the blindfold."

Scott reached up and tore the stupid thing off. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room before him. He found himself in the middle of the lounge on his dad's island. Alan and John were sitting in the sunken sitting area watching him, while Gordon sat in his wheelchair behind his father's old desk.

"You guys cleaned it up." He stared in awe at the shiny floors and clean glass.

"Oh, we did more than that." Alan waved his hand to something behind Scott. "Look over there."

Scott turned around and found himself looking at five portraits. They were nicely done—probably Virgil's handiwork—but they were all wearing strange blue costumes.

"What are we wearing?" Scott laughed a little as he walked over to inspect the pictures.

"Uniforms." Gordon had followed him and laid a hand on Scott's shoulder. "The main color was Dad's idea. Something that was bright, but not already used by other organizations. We tweaked everything else though."

"He had us wearing strange little hats." Alan laughed. "And John in violet."

"Purple's not a bad color." John smiled.

"Purple, no. Violet, yes."

In each picture they were wearing slightly different outfits, though they were all blue, and they had different colored accents.

"This is pretty cool. Good job, Virgil." Scott couldn't help but think of his father and what he had dreamed of. He then turned to look at Gordon, who was still standing behind him. Scott took a step back—assumed he must have been using his walker and didn't want to bump into it—but then looked down and saw that the metal contraption was nowhere to be seen. Neither was his wheelchair. Scott stepped away and looked at his brother in shock. "Wha—Whe—Ho—" He looked back up at Gordon for confirmation.

"You should see your face!" Gordon was bent over laughing. "That was so worth the deception."

"Deception?" Scott finally regained control of his speech.

"I was cleared by my normal doctor almost a year ago. I stayed in my wheelchair during out last vacation to hide my progress from you. Man that was hard, I wanted to go surfing so bad!"

"I thought I almost had him broken down." Alan had an evil grin on his own face. "You kept scolding me cause you thought I was messing with him too much."

"But I could have walked all along." Gordon finished as Scott's face worked it's way through various emotions—shock seemed to be the prevailing one.

"I've also had my flying license for almost two-and-half years now." Virgil confided as he sat down next to John.

"Why keep this from me?" Scott looked at all his brothers. "I mean, I'm happy for you—I'm so happy I don't know what to do—but I don't get why all the secrecy."

"M…maybe we should s…show him." Scott spun around to find Brains standing just to the side of the wall with the pictures.

"Brains! Why are you here?"

"Follow m..me." Gordon bounded forward followed by Alan and Virgil. John took Scott's shoulders and pushed him along. They followed Brains down the plain utilitarian hallway that Scott had found on his first day in the house. All the way to the end where the door with the warning stood. Brains punched in a series of numbers and the door hissed open. They went through single file to stand on the catwalk looking down on the hanger floor below.

The hanger was to capacity. The machine that took up the most room was large, fat, and green. There was a smaller slender rocket sitting to the right—up on a platform—that was silver with blue fins. Next to it was a large red rocket in it's own silo.

"Look over there, Scott," Gordon was pulling him over farther and pointed to a green container that had it's flap down. Inside sat a small yellow sub.

"You finished them? Like, completely?" Scott was stunned almost beyond words.

"Y..yes. They are a…almost ready to go." Brains smiled a look a pride on his face.

"Almost?"

"Well, there is one that hasn't been fully tested." Alan smiled as he leaned over to look at Scott. "We figured you'd want to do the final test flights on her."

"Wait." Scott turned to face his brothers and Brains. "Are you saying that the organization is up and ready to go?"

"Almost." John putting his hand on Scott's shoulder. "Other than the final testing on Thunderbird 1 there are still a few permits we're waiting on to come through. You remember Colonel Casey right?"

"Dad's old friend?"

"Yeah, he got himself a position in the GDF and has been helping us get the permits we need while maintaining our secrecy."

"So, how long till we're operational?" Excitement was clear in Scott's eyes.

"Maybe a month or two. Long enough for a few certain people to get their affairs in order." Virgil answered looking between Scott and John.

"But why?" He was looking at all his brothers wondering what had convinced them all to do this.

"Blame Alan." Virgil playfully hit the youngest on the shoulder.

"Well, I mean, you have done so much for us, Scott. After Mom died, taking care of us and all. Even after Gordon and Virgil disappeared you tried your hardest to keep in contact with John and me. Even making sure we didn't argue too much. When you first told me about all this…I honestly didn't know what to think. It was so overwhelming." Alan was leaning on the railing, his arm hanging over it.. "But after you sent that text saying to forget about it. That made it impossible to. It wasn't two months later we were all on the phone talking about it."

"Then what about your job, Virgil?"

"I quit that job… oh, two years ago now. I've been working here the entire time." Virgil shrugged.

"Alan, what about your racing." Scott turned back to the youngest.

"This season was my last. Though, Terry was the only one that knew until yesterday. I couldn't break the news too early or else you would have heard." Alan smiled. "I still own the team, though. I can chat and watch races via satellite, and just as the owner I don't have to be at the races. But when I can, I'll drop by on them and see how they're doing."

"And John, you're okay with quitting NASA?"

"I was okay with quitting NASA when you first told me. Why does it surprise you now?"

"True." Scott chuckled.

"Fine don't ask about my life, I just gave everything up for you, Scott." Gordon chided trying to feign looking hurt.

"You lived in LA in a small house with an even smaller pool." Scott smirked. "Have you tried out the pool here yet?"

"Are you kidding? I've spent more time here in the past two years than I have at home. I'm sure you've tried to drop by and found me gone plenty of times."

"I did, but since you always replied to my texts I wasn't too worried."

"Yeah, I was getting out a lot more wasn't I?" Gordon laughed thinking of some of the excuses he had sent Scott's way.

"How did… are we going to fund this?"

"We have controlling power over Tracy Industries." John squeezed Scott's shoulder. "We worked together and got the majority of the shares in the company bringing it back into Private hands."

"We didn't change anything within cause they've been doing a pretty good job, but having ownership allowed us to open up and use the funds that had been accumulating." Virgil smiled.

"Wait, what about Thunderbird 5? Is it up and ready, too?"

"Yep!" John was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Look up there." He pointed to a spot above them were a claw seemed to be grasping an iron anchor, attached to it was a pod fixed to a fairly thin wire.

"What is that?" Scott took a step back to get a better look.

"That's the space elevator. I can come and go whenever I want." John was smiling so wide Scott thought for sure he was hurting himself.

"A…are you ready to try your b…bird out?" Brains smiled over at Scott.

"You better believe it!"

"Is Thunderbird 1 ready for launch?" Brains leaned over the railing and yelled down at someone.

"That she is, Brains."

Scott leaned over and saw a familiar brown head looking back up at them.

"Tin-Tin?" He couldn't help but smile bigger. "You're helping too?"

"How could I not?" She smiled back and waved at the machines behind her. "The chance to work on these amazing machines! It's a opportunity of a lifetime."

"Come on, let's get Scott into position." Alan pushed Scott out of the hanger, and led him back up to the lounge.

"How am I going to get to Thunderbird 1 from here?"

"Just stand right there." Alan pushed him up against a well, with two lights on either side of his head. "Now reach up and pull those lights down." Scott looked at them like they were crazy but shrugged and did as he was told.

The lights pulled down all the way to his armpits, and as they did he began to spin into the wall. When the wall stopped he was faced with his own uniform and a platform. He took the two steps to get onto it and turned around as the platform lowered. He pulled on his uniform and stood as the mechanism fitted him with a bit of armor for protection. Once he reached the bottom the elevator opened, and he stepped out onto a platform that took him to the waiting seat outside of Thunderbird 1. He stepped up into it and waited for it to take him inside.

Once there, Brains started talking in his ear, explaining some of the mechanisms and extras that his bird had. It wasn't quite going to be like taking off or landing a jet plane. Scott listened carefully taking notes. After about an hour of this, Brains finally declared that he was ready for a test run. He began the start up sequence as the glass hatch finally closed. He could feel the rocket jolt as it began it's trek up the slope and to the launch pad under the pool. As he neared the pad, he could see sunlight slowly making itself known as the pool retracted under the house. Scott completed the checks and now it was time to go.

Scott returned to the island about an hour later. He could have spent all day in his bird taking it all over the globe, but Brains wouldn't let him. He was still on a bit of a high as he walked down the hall that was lined with the bedrooms and came upon an open door. He peeked in and saw Gordon standing in the middle of the room pondering something. This reminded Scott of something and he snuck back down the hall to his own room and grabbed something from his suitcase. He made his way back to Gordon's room clearing his throat as he stood in the doorway.

"What's the matter?" Scott asked as he watched Gordon rearrange things yet again on the wall before him.

"Oh, I just can seem to get this the way I want." Gordon frowned. "I know what it needs, but I seem to have lost it."

"Would it happen to be this?" Scott pulled the shadow box out from behind him. Gordon's eyes lit up wide.

"Where did you find that?" Gordon ran over and grabbed his medal from Scott's hands.

"I took it, after you yelled at me and left me in the apartment—crying, I might add."

"I was starting to wonder if Alan had thrown it away out of anger." Gordon gushed over the medal—understandably, it wasn't everyone that won an Olympic Gold in the butterfly.

"Did you ask him?"

"Yeah, but he couldn't remember."

"Whatcha doing?" Alan asked peeking into the room from around Scott.

"Look!" Gordon yelled showing Alan his medal.

"Awesome! You found it!" Alan truly looked relieved. Alan helped Gordon to once again rearrange his wall so that the medal was front and center.

Scott left the two to their work, wandered back through the house, and into the lounge. Virgil was at the piano playing random tunes, and Scott sat down at his father's desk looking at the five portraits on the wall. It would still be another couple of months before they could start saving lives. Right now there was still some testing to do, but after his vacation he would tender his resignation and this would be his full time job.

He looked at the small picture of his family that sat on the desk, the one when they were last truly whole; his mom and dad and the five boys. Now more than ever he could feel his parents looking down on them and being proud at what they were doing. This was going to be an epic life, more so than he could have ever dreamed.

'Our top interest story tonight is that of Tracy Industries. When the company's founder, Jefferson Tracy, died in a tragic airplane accident his sons decide to make the company public. However, as we reported two years ago, the company has been re-privatized. Today, we found out just who had bought up all the shares and now owns one of the biggest private companies in the US. Turns out, it was Jefferson Tracy's own sons, the ones that had made the company public in the first place. They held a press conference earlier today to explain their decision.'

The screen went blank as they loaded up the pre-recorded video. When the picture came back the camera was focusing on a large dais where a podium sat in the middle. The Tracy Industries logo was in the background. The camera zoomed out, and a reporter appeared off to the side.

'I'm here at the headquarters of Tracy Industries in New York City waiting for the representatives to come out. We are hoping to have our first look at the owners of the company and an idea of what they plan to do with it. We have been trying to get in contact with Jeff Tracy's sons to see what they think of what is happening, but so far we have not had any luck.' There was a pause as murmurings started to rise in the crowd, 'Oh, I think they're coming, hurry zoom in.' The camera did as she asked and zoomed in to a line of bobbing heads that made their way to the dais and up upon it. There was a collective gasp as many of the reporters recognized at least a few of the men that now stood there.

'Thank you all for coming here today. I'm sure you have many questions, but please let me speak my mind first,' the oldest of the men stated from his place in front of the pedestal. There was a little bit of murmuring still going on, but it quickly quieted down. 'First I would like to introduce ourselves. We are the sons of Jeff Tracy, founder of Tracy Industries. I am the oldest, Scott. To my right—from oldest to youngest—is Virgil, John, Gordon, and Alan. I'm sure you are all interested in why we chose to bring the company back into family hands—after having made it public just eight years ago. It is simple really. Eight years ago, we were not ready for the responsibility of this company. We were all still quite young and trying to establish ourselves in the world. Now, however, we feel that we are ready to take the company back that our father had left us, and guide it into the future.' A hand hesitantly rose out of the audience and the speaker nodded to him.

'Reports say that you have not done anything to alter the structure of the company. Do you and your brothers have plans to have active roles or are you still trying to decide?'

'As of right now, we do not have plans to lead active roles in the company. The current president and CEO are doing an excellent job. We will however keep an eye on things and if something starts to happen that we do not agree with, we will then step in and see what we can do about it.'

'Is this the reason why Alan Tracy decided to quit a successful racing career? Was he pressured to do so by you and your brothers?' Scott smiled and stepped away from the podium gesturing for Alan to step up to answer the question.

'My decision to quit racing was mine alone. I could have continued while being part of Tracy Industries, but I also wanted to spend more time with my brothers—something I hadn't done much of in the past eight years.'

'What about your team?'

'I am still owner of Tracy Racing. That is not changing. I'm actively looking for a drivers to add to the team and will continue to support everyone involved.'

'This question is for Gordon.' The next reporter raised their hand. Alan stepped away and Gordon stepped forward a cane in his hand. 'It looks as if you've regained most of the use of your legs again. Do you have any aspirations to train for the Olympics?'

'No.' Gordon chuckled a bit. 'While I have come a long way since my accident, this is about as much use of my legs as I will be able to get.'

'What about the Paralympics?'

'That is something I am still thinking about, but I think for now I'll just enjoy some family time.'

'What do you brothers plan to do now that you have all quit your jobs?'

Scott stepped back to the podium. 'Our father had been building on an island that he was going to use for his retirement. We have gone back there and fixed it up, planning to live there for the time being.'

'Won't it be a bit lonely on an island with just the five of you?'

'Oh, there are more there than just the five of us. We've also invited some friends to stay as well.'

'Are there any women in your lives?' Another reporter jostled his way forward.

'Not at the moment, but we now have the time and money to go wherever we want so that may just change.' Scott smiled as the group of reporters laughed. A few more reporters lifted their arms, but Scott smiled and shook his head. 'That's all the questions for now. Thank you for your time.'

The TV was turned off, and Alan sighed as he dropped the remote on the table next to him.

"That was so nerve wracking!"

"What are you talking about? You used to talk to reporters all the time." Gordon frowned.

"Yeah, I'm glad they didn't ask me anything." Virgil stood and walked up the few steps out of the sunken seating area.

"Only because you're a nobody." Alan teased.

"Thank goodness." Virgil stretched.

"You guys aren't watching that again are you?" Scott walked into the room a tablet in his hands.

"It's on every channel, kind of hard not to." Alan shrugged as he leaned his head back to look up at Scott.

"Well, I've got some good news. I was just talking to John and all the permits and paperwork is done. We are officially active."

"Sweet! When do we get our first mission?" Alan jumped up over the couch to floor level.

"You want someone to get hurt?" Scott frowned at his youngest brother.

"Well, no… they don't have to get hurt… just be in danger."

"Don't worry, I'm sure it'll be soon." Scott laughed.

"Thunderbird 5 to International Rescue." John's hologram popped up before them.

"What is it John?"

"Tropical Storm Janine was suddenly upgraded to Hurricane Bernice, and two fishing trawlers are stuck on the outskirts of the storm unable to escape from it."

"There's no chance that they could wait it out?" Scott made his way down into the sitting area as John brought up the satellite image.

"They are on the northern edge, given time, the storm is going to overcome them. If they are somehow able to avoid the worst of it, there is fifty-six percent chance they could survive the storm. If they can't their survival rate drops to twenty-two percent. However, if we go and help, there would be a 100% chance of survival."

"Understood. I'll head off in Thunderbird One, Virgil you take Gordon in Thunderbird Two." Scott instructed as he walked over to the wall where his secret elevator was.

"Scott," Alan whined, looking quite pathetic. "This is our first mission! I want to go too!"

"We may need you for a space mission." Scott tried to keep a serious look on his face as he put his back against the wall, but in the end couldn't keep it, "Oh alright, go get suited up." Alan jumped and joined Gordon who was standing off to the side. Virgil was standing with is back to the rocked, but hadn't left yet. The five brothers looked at each other, excitement in their eyes. "This is it," Scott announced, "Thunderbirds Are Go!"


End file.
